Frames
by heatherlea75
Summary: Future JH fic. Two decisions lead to devastating consequences. Can Jackie and Hyde fight and beat everything that has so far successfully kept them apart?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own.

**Author's note: ** This is a future fic, will incorporate the canon of even (ugh) Season 8, though I will be playing a bit with some details of certain family relationships. As a warning, it revolves around a tragic event, and of course is angsty (come on, this is me!), but I think in the end it'll be a sweet and deep (I hope) love story. J/H pairing. The genre is more of a romantic suspense than anything else. The structure of the story is probably going to call for shorter chapters, but that could be good news. :)

**Frames **

_Prologue _

**November, 1982, Chicago, Illinois **

"My kind of town, Chicago is my kind of town."

After two days of listening to it, Steven Hyde had finally grown violently tired of his cellmate's hoarse and far out of tune voice. He lifted his leg from the thin mattress he lay on and kicked it upwards, hard, to the equally skeletal and stained mattress of the bunk above him. "Enough of the serenade, jerk off!" His leg dropped and bounced on what supposedly passed for his bed. Bad enough he was trapped in this hell hole. Just his luck he had to have such an idiot for a cellmate.

"Aww, what's the matter, sweetie? You don't like my singing? Or is it just the song?" A pockmarked face, grinning wide like a crazy clown, hung upside down off the side of the bunks, and Hyde rolled his eyes. Two days, and this was about the twenty-ninth time his "roomie" had leaned down that way to chat with him. "I can sing something else if y'want. I know a bunch of songs." The guy's grin turned into a pout. "C'mon, man. Give me a break. I ain't got anything else to do."

Hyde glared at the moron, but instead of reaching out and popping him a good one, right in the eye, he rolled over to face the dreary concrete wall. "Whatever. Just don't sing that song. And sing into your pillow."

A few seconds later, Hyde rolled his eyes at the muffled singing wafting down from above. Idiot. Took everything he said at face value.

He closed his eyes. Wished he was somewhere else. Not that he was shocked to be here. He'd always expected to wind up in the slammer. Just never for this reason.

He rolled over onto his back again, eyes still closed, and against the darkness, her image came. Her face. Her beauty.

The look in her eyes when she'd learned.

He knew exactly what she'd been thinking of. He'd thought the same thing.

It happened again. He'd done it again. And this time, much, much worse, because this time, it was criminal. Allegedly.

He shook his head, a desperate wince painfully twisting every muscle in his face. If only he could figure out how in the hell it had happened! She was coming to see him today. If he could figure out what happened, he could tell her. And maybe...maybe he wouldn't lose her.

His eyes opened, but he still saw her face. Just three days ago, that face had nestled against his chest. Those eyes had looked at him with exhilaration. Those sweet lips had teased him into anguish, then comforted him into ecstasy.

Too bad. He'd had the silly thought that it was their time to make it to forever.

"Hyde. Up and at 'em. You got a visitor."

Too late.

He sighed and forced his aching body, stiff and sore from the less than hospitable furnishings, to stand.

"Have fun, sweetie-pie!"

Hyde didn't even bother to acknowledge his wacko of a cellmate and headed straight for the bars. Cold, steel bars. A nasty-looking guard, outfitted with the tools of his trade, nightstick, guns. Handcuffs the guard was just about to slap on his wrists. Things meant to control. Beat down. Destroy. Kill.

Right. As if he wasn't dead already.

**November, 1983, Lake Shore Drive, Chicago **

Jackie Burkhart sat on the window seat in her large, perfectly decorated bedroom, gazing out the window at the lake. In the summer, she watched the boats and swimmers, made up stories in her head about what those swimmers were doing, where the boats were going. Just in front of the lake was Grant Park, and she watched the kids playing, dogs on leashes leading their owners on runs. Chicago was a bustling city, with just the right amount of energy, just the right amount of aesthetic beauty. Glorious architecture, the Chicago River, Lake Michigan. And of course Michigan Avenue, which somehow managed to keep up with her love for shopping.

She loved it. She was thriving in it. All her dreams were coming true.

Almost.

She looked down at the letter in her lap and smiled. It should make her nervous, a page with sentences composed by cut out magazine letters and words.

_Dear Jackie. I love your television show. I really get you. And you get me. Someday we'll meet, Jackie, and I'll get you…if you know what I mean. _

William had wanted to go to the police, but she refused. It wasn't necessary, she'd told him.

"Don't you know what this means, William? It means I've made it! I'm really a star! Fan letters are great, yeah, people like you. Blah, blah, blah. But stalker letters? People either love you obsessively or hate you obsessively! People think you have power! Power, William! I'm gonna influence this entire country, William!"

She wasn't frightened. It was a one-time thing, she was sure. If she sent this guy an autographed picture, he'd be satisfied. That's what the network executives had told her, after, she remembered with a swell in her heart, telling her what an incredible asset she'd become to them. How valuable she was. How much they, and everyone, adored her. How amazed they were by the ratings her show was getting.

How she loved the praise.

And needed it, because she sure as hell didn't get any appreciation at home.

Then again, that was her fault.

No. It was _his_ fault.

Her mood darkened, a piercing anger erupting in her stomach. Her eyes skimmed the park once again, and to her chagrin, she wondered if he was out there. No. Of course he wasn't out there. And if he was, it wouldn't matter. Not anymore.

"Jackie?"

She flipped her head to William, his six foot frame stiff in the doorway to their bedroom.

"We need to get ready for dinner. We're expected at seven sharp."

She hesitated, and that was all the opening he needed.

He walked towards her, his face clouding. "Need I remind you of our agreement, _Mrs. Bonner_? You are to be my _wife _in every way, accompanying me to parties, making me look…"

Jackie stood, shaking her head. "Please, William. You don't need to go through all that again." She forced a compliant smile. "I'll be quick. I know you don't like to be late."

He nodded curtly, though a small smile raised the corners of his lips. "Good. Oh, and wear the blue gown. My boss likes blue, and you…" The smile broadened sexily. "Look so amazing in it."

He left, and she stood. Slowly, she turned and walked back to the window. So many people, living such happy lives, playing games or taking walks with people they loved. She blinked slowly, smiled sadly. If those people at the park could look up into her home, they'd probably guess that she was living a fairy tale. A life in which she wanted for nothing.

A lie.

She wanted for something.

She wanted for him. And every day, despite her skyrocketing career, her increasing wealth, she wanted him more.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Thanks SO much for the reviews! I hope the prologue intrigued you, and I hope this chapter intrigues you even more. :) I'm going to take the next few days off, to try to get a bit ahead with this story so I can post it fairly frequently. I think it's a story that's better served if the chapters are read close together. Oh, and in this story, you'll need to pay attention to the dates, since there are some parallel things going on. :)

**Warning:** A little language. Tragedy.

**Frames **

_Chapter 1 _

_November 25, 1986 _

The hand on her back was so cold, as chilled as the gusting wind. Her slender body trembled, and she almost dropped the single rose she held. Its stem was already tremulous, threatening to discard the red bloom at any moment.

"Go."

Her eyes closed. How could he say that so callously? Couldn't he understand how hard…_impossible_ this was for her? Didn't her continuous tears make that obvious?

And why wasn't _he_ crying? He _should_ be crying!

"Honey. Go now. Everyone is waiting."

His icy hand pushed her, and with a slight gasp, she stumbled forward. Towards her own death. Towards the coffin, just barely four feet long, a beautiful mahogany box suspended over an open grave. Waiting to be lowered. Waiting to be buried. Waiting to be hidden from view forever. Waiting to cradle her son for eternity, and to kill her.

Her feet stopped moving, and again she felt his hand, so frozen it burned, even through her thick wool coat.

"I can't."

"You have to. Go." His sigh was soft without patience, his words twisted with stirring anger. "Everyone is looking at you, and it's getting embarrassing."

Hadn't she always loved people, anyone and everyone, watching her? Hadn't her parents always encouraged her to perform? To be the center of attention?

_"Go on, Jackie! Everyone is watching you. Dance for us. We all love it when you dance." _

_"Okay, Mommy! Daddy, watch me! Everyone, watch what I can do!" _

Her body, now so thin she approached the dangerous side of frail, moved without her permission. Like so much of what had happened since she'd made the most crippling decision of her life. After that, she'd found no real freedom, aside from one night. One night in four long years, followed by another choice that slowly ebbed her life away.

She saw her reflection in its gleaming, rich, cherry-red finishing as she approached the coffin. There she was. Hollow eyes, tear-tracked skin. Hair that had no luster, though she continued to use her sworn by shampoo and conditioner. Cracked lips that no amount of Chapstick would help. A petite frame, barely over five feet tall, shoulders that had no rise to them.

"My baby," she whispered. "My sweet baby boy."

"Put the rose on the coffin. People are ready to go. It's so goddamned cold out here."

Another push from his demanding hand, and another stumbling few steps, until she could touch the coffin. She did. Her hand flattened on the wood.

Her sweet son's smile now replaced her own image in the shine of the coffin. A smile so familiar to her, for it had been her own. He looked like her, so much like her, but with bold, blue eyes. Hair the same raven shade as hers, but curly. A wiry little body always moving, with such joy and energy.

And she'd never see him again.

"I'm so sorry, angel. So sorry that we have to…that I'm not with you."

"Come on. You already said your goodbyes at the funeral home."

His harsh voice made her wince. She'd told herself over and over again that his sudden coldness and brutality towards her since…she'd convinced herself that people handled grief differently. That his insensitivity towards her was his way of dealing with his grief. He'd lost the child he'd loved, too.

She forgot that he'd almost always been this way.

"Jackie, please." The abrupt softness of his voice lifted her head, and she tried to focus her teary eyes on his face. He looked haggered. Worried. Of course he was suffering, too. "Honey, I know. I know it's hard…"

The fingers of her right hand, clutching the thin stem of the rose, opened, and the flower slipped to the ground in slow motion. She stared at it, at how the red loomed so brightly amidst the white brushing of snow on the ground. It wasn't right. Nothing should be that bright. Nothing should be that colorful. Vibrant. Not when her baby boy was about to be put in the ground.

One black boot took care of that, covering the bloom and pressing down on it, burying it in the snow. Grinding it, stamping it out the way one would a finished cigarette. Stomping it like she'd stomped to get her way as a child.

_Give me back my son! Give me back my son! GIVE ME BACK MY SON! _

"GIVE ME BACK MY SON!"

She hadn't realized she was screaming until she found herself crushed against her husband, his hand…that cold one…that demanding one…pressing her head to her shoulder. His other hand gripped her back. Tightly. Almost painfully.

"Stop it, Jackie. You can be hysterical at the hotel. Not here. Not in public. Now come on. We're leaving. You've said your goodbyes, and I've said mine."

_When? When did you say goodbye to him? You hardly looked at him at the wake! You hardly went near his hospital bed! _

Jackie was too weak to fight. Jackie Burkhart, a former cheerleader whose ability to defend herself had been definitively proven in a karate class so long ago, couldn't defend now her right to mourn her son loudly and impassionedly. Again, her body moved without her agreeing.

He propelled her away, in the opposite direction of the grave and hissed warnings at her when she tried to look back, quiet warnings so the others milling behind them wouldn't hear. She felt delirious. Everything, sights, sounds, feelings, was spinning. Maybe it was good that he was clutching her so.

"Stay here. I just saw my boss, and I have to go thank him for making the drive up."

He released her, and she exhaled slowly, remembering what the doctor had told her. She needed to breathe when she felt she was going to collapse. Needed to get oxygen into her. Deep, slow, calming breaths. One. Two. Three. Four.

A flicker of movement caught the corner of her left eye. She turned, but only saw what looked like the back of a person retreating behind a miniature mausoleum about fifty feet from where she stood. Her heart stopped beating.

It couldn't be.

She jumped. The hand on her back again. Still cold.

"Sorry, honey. Come on. Time to go."

"I just saw someone. Over there." She pointed towards the building, white concrete shaped into an ornate resting place for some wealthy couple. "Do you…you don't think it's him, do you?"

Her husband's expression remained steely as he gazed across the rows of graves. "Him? Of course not. Don't be silly. It's probably just some bum or something, or a kid who thinks hanging out in a cemetery is cool." A show of affection, rare these days, he kissed her forehead. "Come on. Let's go."

_Half an hour later _

A man stood against the marble and shivered. A jean jacket wasn't exactly adequate defense against a Wisconsin preparing herself for winter, but what the hell. Being cold was a pathetic complaint. Considering.

The voices had all faded, and the sounds of dirt being thrown onto a coffin were gone, as well. It was safe. He took a deep breath and walked around the mausoleum he'd hidden behind. He saw it immediately, the freshly dug grave, no headstone, just a mound of dirt.

He stopped in front of the dirt and stared at it. Under the flesh of the earth was the dead flesh of a two year old boy. A boy he really had no connection to. A boy he hadn't really known, a boy who hadn't known him.

He kneeled down on the ground and put a hand on the dirt. Cold, just like everything around him. The gray stone of the headstones lined in row after row. The threatening white of the sky. The harsh whip of the wind. Even the birds seemed to shiver as they rested on tree branches.

Dead at two years old. The idea…the _fact_ stabbed him in the middle of his chest.

His eyes closed. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

_Sorry for so damn much. _

With a jerk, he stood up. He had no right to be here after what he'd done. No right at all. And the prickling sensation on the back of his neck, as well as a swish of unease in his gut told him he should probably leave. She was probably going to come back. He was probably going to come back. And they couldn't see him here.

No one could see him here.

No one could know.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Um, I'm finding that I can't stop thinking about this story, so instead of taking a couple days off, I'm not! Hope you don't mind. :) Thanks SO much for your reviews!!! I love them. Anyway...this chapter probably won't be very popular, sorry, but it's necessary. Happy reading!

**Warning:** Language.

**Frames **

_Chapter 2 _

William Bonner had grown up in affluent Albany, New York, the son of a state senator and a distant relative of the Roosevelt clan. And so, as he stood in the living room of the modest, dreadfully decorated suburban house, near the stairway, he looked around uncomfortably. He was decidedly out of place. All the gold and orange….and that pea soup green chair! What decorator had come up with _this_ color scheme? Or had there even been a decorator at all? For heaven's sake, what kind of people didn't hire an interior designer?

Stranger after stranger offered him their most heartfelt condolences, and he tried to smile. Bastards. They didn't know how he felt. They couldn't even imagine. He looked across the room to the couch, where his wife sat surrounded by the friends she talked of incessantly. It was her idea to have the funeral here, in this Podunk town of Point Place, Wisconsin. _Wisconsin. _He'd wanted to take the boy to New York. But there had been no reasoning with her. She'd been hysterical ever since the kidnapping. She wasn't nearly as beautiful when she was hysterical.

He watched, his eyes narrow, as the red headed one – Darla, was it? - hugged Jackie. The plan had been to leave for Chicago after the funeral. He rolled his eyes and shifted impatiently. From the looks of it, it might be hours before they hit the road.

He was going to suffocate here, in this Waltonesque world of affection and tears, in this house ripped from Mayberry, USA.

With a sigh that felt like the release of a boulder from a mountainside, he strode over to the couch. "Jackie." All of them, the red head, the skinny guy who was always all over the red head, the foreign one who, for some reason, amused William, and the pretty boy who was more idiotic than he was pretty looked up at him, but Jackie did not. Her head was bowed, her hand covering her mouth. Her shoulders shivered like wind-blown tree limbs. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. "Jackie. Look at me."

She did. His eyes flickered over the others still staring at him. Darla was now glaring at him. He'd never liked her. "We're going for a walk." He held out his hand and waited. She didn't take it, and he frowned. "Jackie, I said, we're going for a walk."

The red head nosed in. "I don't think Jackie feels up to taking a walk in twenty degree weather. She's been outside enough today." Her too-large arm wrapped around those damn shaking shoulders and drew Jackie closer.

Jackie nodded slowly, a scared little girl being coaxed into something. "It's too cold, William. I'd rather stay here." She swallowed, and the delicate, flower- like beauty of her face wilted. "Please."

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Darla roll her eyes and look at that skinny freak, but he ignored it. She didn't matter. None of them mattered. His throat tightened, however, at Jackie's defiance. "Fine." He reached down and put his hand on her knee. Squeezed. A message for her. Her expression tightened, struggled, and he smiled. "Are you going to be okay if I get out of here for a while?"

She smiled, a smile as fake as the sugar in his voice. "I…I think so."

"Fine." William leaned down to his wife and pressed a possessive kiss on her lips. No real response. _Damn ice queen. _"I'll be back soon." He stared at her, into her eyes, and arched an eyebrow. _Don't even think of going anywhere, Jackie. You owe me. And you know it. I'm not done collecting on your debt. _He patted her knee and stood back up, giving what passed for a concerned look to the others, her…_friends_. "Take care of my wife."

The red head snarled like some fucking guard dog. Fitting, since she was such a bitch. "Don't worry, _we_ will."

A few minutes later, he walked quickly down the tree-lined streets of the neighborhood. Bare branches, the leaves had all descended to the cemetery of the ground. Funny, the piles of leaves looked almost like what he imagined the mound of dirt over a grave would look like. Only difference was the slight bit of color in the leaves. Slight bit of clinging life.

He headed for the 7-11 he'd seen on the way to the Forman house. He needed a phone. When he got to the store, he immediately headed for the pay phone, shoved in a few coins and punched in a number he'd memorized long ago. He looked around, tapped his toes, gripped the receiver, until instead of a irritating buzz, he heard a voice. "Yeah, it's me. Any news?" His eyes closed. "That's not what I wanted to hear. Yeah, yeah, that's bullshit. He was here. At the cemetery. Jackie saw him. Or at least, she thinks she saw him."

A car pulled into the store parking lot, instead of in the empty space at the other end, directly in front of where William stood, and he frowned and turned towards the phone. He cupped his hand over his free ear. "I don't give a damn about time! I want this taken care of. Now. You've had plenty of time. Three damn weeks." He glanced around, and his voice lowered. "Look. I expect something to be done when I get home. And that's tomorrow. So you better get your ass off the pot and figure it out!"

Slamming the receiver into the cradle of the pay phone satisfied him more than sex, and he took a deep breath. Things weren't progressing as he'd hoped.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, glanced at it, and picked up the phone again. He grimaced as the phone continued to ring with no answer. "Damn it, Jack, where are you?" he mumbled through tight lips. "So much for being at the funeral." He rolled his eyes. "Probably off feeling sorry for himself. Idiot." Again, he slammed the receiver down. Patience was not his strongest suit.

He shook his head and began to walk, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his coat's inner pocket. "Better find some, Bonner," he mumbled as he selected a smoke and lit it. The first drag was sweet, calming, and he closed his eyes in blessed relief. All that bullshit Jackie used to give him about fresh air. Ha. Fresh air constricted. Was cheap. Just like this god forsaken town. Nothing of importance resided here.

As he made his way back to the Forman's cheap and cheesy house, much more slowly than his escape had been, he noticed a few kids playing in those piles of leaves in front of one of the mindlessly designed houses. He'd never done that. The gardeners his parents had hired had always been too efficient; the leaves were gone nearly as soon as they'd fallen.

It was one of Jackie's numerous complaints after giving birth. Despite their amazing penthouse right off the lake, she'd suddenly become house happy, suburbs happy. _"But William, he won't have a yard to play in. He won't be able to jump in the leaves, or climb trees, if we stay here." _

He smirked and flicked the excess ash from his cigarette onto the ground.

Didn't matter much now.

_Same time, Point Place Gardens Hotel _

His thoughts were worse torture than his time in prison. What he'd seen and heard at the cemetery…

Her. Sobbing. Looking around her as if surrounded by demons. Her. Screaming for her son. Her. Moving like she'd lost possession of her body. Her. Her tiny frame almost shriveled.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, cracked just to the left of the center. Haggard and old looking. Unshaven. Uncouth. Like it mattered. Who cared? He had his freedom, but was just as trapped by his mind than he had been by those steel bars.

It had gone too far. How had he let it get this far? She was suffering because of him. Still married because of him. He'd once promised himself that he was done hurting her. Done driving her to hell.

So much for promises.

The phone rang, and he started, turning his head over his shoulder and looking towards the bathroom door. _I should answer it. It could be…_

But with a sigh, he turned back to the mirror, and the noise of the phone faded until he didn't hear it.

Instead, he heard her crying and screaming for her son, for some unseen force or God or power to give her back her son.

He closed his eyes, and his own image was replaced by hers.

_I would if I could. _


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Thanks SO much for reading this and especially for reviewing. I'm _extremely _interested in what you're thinking/feeling as you read this, since it's a bit of a different style for me, so keep letting me know! I know you probably have questions. They'll all be answered. Eventually. Keep reading!

**Warning: **Language.

**Frames **

_Chapter 3 _

_Later that night, the Forman basement _

They'd come of age in the basement, shared their most tragic, happiest, most death-defying and life threatening moments. Couples had hooked up, broken up. Friends had fought, made up over a beer or five. They'd made each other laugh, made each other cry. Loved each other. Hated each other. Grown closer. Grown apart. It seemed only natural for them to gather there now, in the wake of a heartbreak none of them had ever imagined in their innocent years.

Jackie sat on the old, beat up couch that still felt as comfortable as it had back then. Timeless comfort. Donna was next to her, or at least she assumed the person she was leaning into was Donna. It was so hard to tell, so hard to see anything around her. Her mind had been swallowed by devouring fog.

"Are you hungry, Jackie? I can go upstairs and get you a plate of food."

She shook her head. Food. What was the point? So many people had told her she had to eat. Why? She'd fed her baby before he'd been taken from her, and it hadn't helped him. How would it help her?

"So…"

The television wasn't turned on, neither was the radio. Apparently, the silence was unbearable. People kept trying to make conversation, and sounding so awkward. It was comforting to her. Everyone _should_ sound awkward. Nothing should be normal. Nothing could be normal ever again.

"Has anybody heard from Hyde?"

Eric Forman shook his head. "Haven't heard a word for him in at least a year."

Michael Kelso nodded. "God, I wonder what's happened to him."

"He's probably in prison again, where's the mystery?" Fez snapped. Jackie looked up and watched her ex-boyfriend walk across the room to the deep freeze. He reached in, then turned, and their eyes met. His were cold, as was his voice. "We're all better off that son of a bitch is not here. He belongs in prison. Always has." His eyes, naturally dark, seemed to darken beyond black, with resentment still lingering despite the passed years and his marriage, a happy one, Donna told her.

Jackie looked away, the knowledge that Fez still blamed Steven, though wrongly, for their break-up sitting uncomfortably in her consciousness. She suspected Fez would be happy to never see Steven again.

She, on the other hand, would give anything for Steven to be here. Next to her. Hugging her. It was his best kept secret that he gave the most amazing hugs. _He should be here_._ He has every right to be here. More right than anyone else here._ Unlike the others, she knew why he wasn't here, and she hated it. She looked at Steven's chair, empty now, but still in its place. If she tried, if she blurred her eyes hard enough, she could see him.

She stood. Maybe sitting in Steven's chair would help. He'd always been the one to give her strength. Always had a quiet belief in her that no one seemed to notice, except her. She moved to the chair and sat down. It was cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

It wasn't the same without him underneath her. Not the same at all. And even if he had been here, it wouldn't be the same as it had then. So much had happened. Changed. The only thing she was grateful for was that they had somehow managed to stay connected, though no one else knew just how.

She wasn't sure the connection would outlive this. She wasn't sure it could. If he had any heart at all, and she knew he did, he hated her right now.

Kelso, his lanky but somewhat filled out form settled in the lawn chair, looked at her. "So, are you still getting those freaky letters and phone calls?"

Donna frowned and shot him a glare. "Kelso, I really don't think Jackie wants to talk about that right now."

Jackie smiled faintly. The stalker. Only a month ago, her biggest problem, aside from a marriage that lacked real intimacy and emotion, had been the disturbing notes, gifts and phone calls from some random fan of her television show. Some obsessed stranger who'd convinced himself that he was in love with her, and she with him, their relationship born through the television screen.

It hadn't seemed so bad. She'd had protection. And besides, he hadn't been the first. None of the others had ever done anything to hurt her. She hadn't expected him to be any different.

"William thinks he's the one who…who…." Her eyes lowered. She still couldn't say it. Or his name. She couldn't say her own son's name, or even bear to hear it.

Her shivers intensified to near seizure level.

She was trapped in ice. No warmth could reach her.

Donna stood up. "Jackie, are you cold? Hey, I think my dad still has that blue blanket you used to like so much. I'll go get it."

Jackie nodded, though she knew no blanket would help. Her ice, her new world, was impenetrable. Would be so forever, unless her son came back to her. "Just…be sure to shake it out. I know your dad, and I'm sure there are crumbs all over it."

Donna Pinciotti left the basement, feeling helpless. There wasn't anything she could do. A damn blanket wasn't really going to help Jackie. Jackie was trapped, and not only in the pain of losing her only child. That husband…that bastard…she was trapped with him. And Donna didn't understand why. Jackie would never say. Even before this tragedy, the old, talkative cheerleader had morphed into a secretive and silent woman. Oh, on her show she was just as peppy as ever. She put on one hell of a show, judging by how much money she was paid and the ratings for her daytime talk series.

Something was missing. Her eyes had dulled. Her inherent zest and cheer had become somber. Donna thought so every time she saw her, except, of course, when she was looking at her son.

Donna stopped in her tracks in front of the Vista Cruiser, still, as always, parked in the Forman's driveway. She stared at the man leaning against the front of the garage and smoking a cigarette. "Hyde," she muttered. "Oh my god, Hyde."

She hadn't seen him in almost two years, and yet, the impulse she felt to rush to him and give him a hug seemed entirely inappropriate. And entirely unwelcome, she decided, noting the scowl on his face.

He tossed his half-smoked cigarette away and took a few steps towards her. "How is she?"

Donna shook her head, unsure if she was merely seeing things. He looked almost the same, the hair a little longer, clothes a little rougher, body language a little stiffer. "Where have you been?"

He shrugged. "Around. How is she?"

His voice was as gruff as ever. More so, probably from the whisky and cigarettes Donna suspected he'd lived on the past few years. She shrugged. "As well as can be expected." Those damn sunglasses were of course there, his face was Zenned over, so Donna couldn't tell his reaction. Some girls had thought that kind of mystery was appealing; she'd always found it annoying.

"I want to see her."

Donna thought quickly. William had been away for a little while. Chances were that he'd be back soon. "I don't know, Hyde. William went for a walk, but he'll be back soon."

"Fuck William! I'm her friend, too!"

After a moment, Donna smiled slightly. "I'll go get her," she said quietly.

He was right. Fuck William.

Steven Hyde lit up another cigarette and walked an aimless path in front of the garage. So many memories of this house, this driveway, that ended the day he'd left Point Place for good. Six years ago. Three days after New Years, and a new decade. He'd only been back a few times since then, a point that Mrs. Forman, in her phone calls and letters, harassed him about. Guilt tripped him about.

It was just too hard, considering all that had happened. Of course, life in Chicago hadn't been all that wonderful, aside from a few months, until the rape thing. It had cost him everything, and after that, he'd done nothing but drugs and drinking, having random sex in crappy hotels. Losing himself in vice. Never summoning the nerve or the desire to change.

Paradise. He wasn't sure why he stayed. No. Yes he was. Because of her.

But hell, at least he'd lived up to his potential. Everyone had always known he'd end up badly. A stoner. A drunk. A sex fiend. Hell, he hadn't disappointed anyone.

_Except her. _

He took a long drag and looked up at the darkening sky, released the smoke towards it, and watched the rings fade.

"Steven?"

He turned, and she stood there. Even in the twilight, he noticed the paleness of her face. The strain in her eyes and body. He threw the cigarette away, the second he'd wasted in less than five minutes. "Hey." He took a few steps towards her. "You…how are you doing?"

Her tiny shoulders lifted. "I don't know. I can't…it's all…everything is so…blurry, you know?"

He nodded. He understood blurry. Things had been blurry for him for almost as long as he could remember. _Except with her. _

He shook his head. Clarity was brief, and only gave rise to more intense murkiness. Better to be blurry. Or high. Or drunk.

Her voice was lower than normal, much less shrill, like it came from somewhere deeper than her throat. Hell, it probably did. The pain was probably lodged in her gut, and that's where she spoke from. That's where she lived now.

"Oh, god, Steven…"

She broke down, and her tears paralyzed his brain. "Jackie…" What could he say? Or do? Words were meaningless. Instead, instinctively, he opened his arms. "Come here."

She fit perfectly in his arms, just as always, and yet, he felt that same surprise he always did. Always had every time he held her. The wind stirred, shrieking quietly with the threat of more volume, and she shivered. He pulled her closer, and his heart jumped. Her tiny body against his, looking to his for shelter. She'd protected him once. He had to protect her now, if only from the wind.

She pulled her head back and looked up at him. "Do you hate me?" Her whisper was hoarse. "For what I did? For what I made you do?" One of her hands left his back and rose to his cheek, touched his cheek, stroked his cheek. "I shouldn't have done it…"

He shook his head. No. They couldn't go there. Not now. Not tonight. Not ever. It was over and done with, and if he kept on wallowing in what might have been, both their lives would collapse. His life wasn't much of one, but hers was. "You…" Her crystal eyes still spoke to him, and he blinked slowly. "You…we made the right decision, Jackie. You know that. And I know it."

He groaned softly when she pushed him away from her. Now those crystals, one blue, one green, flashed with anger that darkness couldn't disguise.

"Don't you feel anything, Steven? Don't you feel anything at all?"

Self-defense kicked in. As it always did at the most inopportune moments, the moments she wanted honesty from him. He shrugged. "Not really."

_Lie. _

"Not even now?"

He turned away from her. She was broken. When she was broken, she was her most powerful against him. "Why should I feel anything now, Jackie?"

He stood with his eyes closed through the long silence that followed, expecting to hear her shoes clipping away from him. Instead, a small hand warmed his shoulder too briefly.

"I brought this for you. I thought you might come, even though I asked you not to. I…I want you to have it."

The hand reached around his waist and tucked what felt to him like a picture in his hand. He didn't move. Couldn't move.

Her hands clutched his waist, briefly holding him tight, and her head rested on his back.

"Thanks for coming, Steven Just seeing you…it's so...I just..."

She let go, with a tiny, suppressed cry in her throat.

And then the sounds of her shoes, that familiar clip-clop of high heels walking away from him.

He lifted the picture and looked down at it for a moment, then away, up into the sky. So cold. Dark. Empty.

So much a mirror of himself.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the reviews! I'm getting a kick out of reading what you're thinking. It's just about what I hoped for. Yay! I'm getting a little nervous, though. I hope I can pull this story off. :) Anyway, I've almost posted all of this story that I have, so I'm going to slow down a bit so I can get ahead again. And again, thanks SO much...you guys are so sweet and supportive!

**Warning: **Language.

**Frames**

Chapter 4

_Novemeber 28, 1986, Chicago, Illinois _

The one-room apartment seemed even dirtier and darker than it had when he'd left. He tossed his duffle bag on the floor and grimaced. Welcome home. Right. This wasn't a home. Hadn't had a home since he left the Forman's.

His place was no palace. Grey walls. One tiny window that looked out to another building, aptly colored grey. The only furnishings were a torn up couch and a few boxes. A refrigerator that was falling apart and often didn't work. The television from the basement that Mrs. Forman insisted he take the last time he'd visited. A stereo he'd stolen while high. Beer cans, rolling papers, discarded brown paper bags strewn around. In the other room, just a mattress covered by ratty blankets and a few more boxes that served as storage for his tee shirts and jeans.

He'd lived this way before. Hell, maybe it was his fate. Born and raised to be trash.

He reached in his jacket pocket for his cigarettes, but instead pulled out the picture Jackie had given him. Looking at it, his craving for nicotine faded. "Damn it," he muttered, tossing the picture across the room. Why did she have to do that? Give him that? Remind him? Typical of her. Always burying herself a little deeper under his skin. He gripped his temples, covering his eyes, and rubbed, but the headache didn't ease.

As he dropped his arm, he glanced at his watch. Time for Jackie's show, and he quickly flipped on the television. He watched her almost everyday. Pathetic. Kept a folder with newspaper and magazine articles about her in it. Even worse. Couldn't help himself. He had no trouble ignoring his emotional needs, except for this goddamned need for her. He had to keep her close somehow, and this was the only way he had.

Lived in the same city as her, separated from her by at least one universe. Probably closer to fifteen.

He lit up a Marlboro and watched her. She looked so beautiful, as always, the raven hair shining like the ebony of a Steinway concert grand. Took a drag and listened to her. The years, and grief, had lowered her voice. Not so shrill anymore, but still with a degree or two of girlishness.

_"I want to say thank you to everyone who has sent me letters and cards. I can't tell you how much it's meant to me. The death of a child is so…so devastating, and it's so hard to find strength. I've found strength in the love you've shown me." _

The cigarette sat unnoticed on his lips, and he studied her. She was such a good actress; no one in that studio could possibly know what was going on inside of her. No one would understand that all those letters only made it worse. Made it bigger.

He did.

She was burning. Slowly. From head to toe, from toe to head. Inside and out. And nowhere she turned was there anything to comfort her. Certainly not her bastard of a husband.

_God, why in the hell does she stay with him? She can't believe that he loves her! _

He turned away, tossed the cigarette in an ashtray and headed for the fridge for a beer. It was a ridiculous thought, because he knew perfectly well why she stayed with him.

She stayed with that bastard because of him. Because of what he'd done and her own damned need to protect him. But it was worse that he let her. Everyday, he let her.

Just as he'd taken a sip of the flat beer, he heard a hollow thumping on his door. Then a voice. Male. Angry. Authoritative. All that he hated.

"Police! Open up!"

_CBS Television Studio, Chicago _

As soon as taping was over, Jackie walked off the set and quickly headed for her dressing room. She ignored the calls of her fans, of her agent, of the director. Normally, she lingered, talked with the audience, joked with them, accepted their lavish praise and compliments. It used to be her favorite part. Pure, unadulterated worship. What she'd always dreamed of.

Dreams were meaningless.

She reached her dressing room and closed the door behind her. Letting out a long held in sob, she sat in front of her mirror and stared at herself. Make up done to perfection. Hair like she'd just visited a world-famous stylist.

The lifeless eyes of a woman who'd just buried her child.

She shook her head, lowering her lids. She didn't want to see herself. It was bad enough she felt it. She couldn't bear to actually see the death inside of her.

It was too soon to be at work. Too damn soon. But William, her agent, her producer, everyone had insisted. The show must fucking go on. Entertainment's inhumane mantra.

"Jackie?" A sharp knock on the door, one she immediately recognized as William's. Only he seemed to punch the door that way. "Honey, I'm coming in. I need to talk to you."

She turned towards the door as it opened. "William, I'm not going on tomorrow. I told you it was too…"

Her husband wasn't alone. He was followed into the dressing room by Jim Doyle, a friend of his, and a detective with the Chicago Police Department. Jackie's heart suddenly rested on her tightly pressed together feet. "William?"

"Jackie, there's news." William looked at Jim. "About…" He closed his eyes and swallowed. "About the…murder."

Jim nodded. "We've made an arrest, Jackie." He glanced at William. "Do you want to tell her?"

William squatted down next to her, and took her hands, but Jackie felt nothing, except a shattering. A slow shattering, from the inside out.

"They've made an arrest, sweetheart."

She looked away. Did she really want to know? Did she really want to know who took her baby boy away? Who stabbed and mutilated and almost eradicated his beautiful face? His precious body? His joyful soul? Did she want to see the monster's face? His hands? The shell of a body that harbored the very devil himself?

_Who could have done this? _

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Jackie?"

She directed her eyes, beams of fire, at him. So damn patronizing. "Of course I understand. I just…" The moment of strength vanished as quickly as it had arrived, and her body trembled. So cold. So very, very cold. "I'm not sure I want to know."

Jim and William exchanged looks, and Jackie noticed. She knew it meant something. She sat up straighter, shoving her shoulders back and tossing her hair over them. Defenses she'd learned as a child. _Do this, Jackie, make sure the world sees how beautiful you are, and you'll always be strong. Beauty gives you power. Power makes you strong. _"Fine. Tell me." William stroked her hand. Tenderly; she supposed he wanted to comfort her. Instead, it angered her, and she snatched hers away. "Tell me."

"Look, Jackie, I just want you to know that we didn't make this arrest without any thought. We have evidence."

Jim's words made no sense, and she glared at William in confusion, her heart now rising to her breast bone, the weight of it constricting her breathing. "William, what is he talking about? Why would I think otherwise?"

William blinked slowly, so slowly that his eyes remained closed for nearly a full thirty seconds. "Because you know him. Well."

Pressure circled her head, threatening to shatter the thin bone of her temples. Her shoulders, seemingly weaker than a butterfly's wing, collapsed. "What? I…" Her lips felt so dry. Cracked. And even the moisture of her tongue wasn't enough. "I know him? I _know_ who…who…."

Jim cleared his throat cautiously. "We arrested Steven Hyde, Jackie." He took a breath. "Steven Hyde was your stalker, and he killed your son."

Jackie's vision blurred. Her mind shifted. First gear. Second gear. Third. Fourth. Faster. Faster. Faster.

Faster until all the light was gone.

_Cook County Jail, an hour later _

The only person he could think of to call was the last person he should call. The mother of the child he supposedly killed. He hesitated, his hand on the phone. He really had no choice. Hers was the only phone number he knew by heart. Hell, he didn't even have a phone in his apartment.

"Hurry up, you little fuck. Make your call."

The cop didn't scare him, and he smirked over his shoulder. "Keep your pants on, man. What, do you have some donuts waiting for you back at the house?"

He chuckled when the cop shoved him.

"Make your call."

The breath he took didn't calm his nerves. Would she believe him? Would she…god, did she think that he'd….

He dialed the number quickly. Held his breath. Prayed that her husband didn't answer. He shouldn't do this. But who the hell else was he gonna call? Everyone else had written him off. Should he call his dealer? Yeah right. The half a dozen rings on the other end of the line tortured him, but finally, a breathless voice answered. His eyes closed. "Jackie…"

"Steven! Oh my god!"

"I didn't…I probably shouldn't have…" He looked at the wall, grey as a rain fueled fog, but he saw colors. Jackie colors. Her eyes. Blue, green. Her skin. Olive. Always perfectly tanned olive. Her hair. Jet black. Lips. Seductively sweet pink. She couldn't believe that he'd done this.

And if she did, he'd spend the rest of his life in prison if only, in the end, she believed him. In him, the way she always had before.

She was talking, saying something about getting him a lawyer. He wasn't interested, not now, and interrupted her blather.

"Jackie, I didn't do this. I didn't kill ou…your son."

Her silence nearly killed him. His forehead fell to the pay phone, his hand flew to the wall. Holding himself up. Forcing himself to stay on his feet.

"Oh, Steven, god, I know that. I know that."

"Do you?" He closed his eyes. "Do you, Jackie? God, please, Jackie, tell me that you do."

For the first time in nearly all the years he'd been alive, Hyde prayed to God.

"Oh, Puddin' Pop."

Her voice was so soft, sweet around her old nickname for him. His lips shook. There she went again, digging into him. He wondered what the cops had done with the picture she'd given him. They'd found it on the floor, told him it was proof of his guilt. That he was obsessed with Jackie and the baby. That he killed the baby because he couldn't have Jackie. He wondered who in the hell had put together that twisted shrine to her in his bedroom.

"I know you didn't kill our son."

And for the first time in his life, God answered his prayer.


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Wow, the response to the last chapter was incredible! And very exciting, so I owe you guys a HUGE thank you. THANK YOU! Hee hee. I really appreciate the reviews, so much. Anyway, this is kind of filler, but necessary. You know the drill.

**Warning:** Nothing much.

**Frames **

Chapter 5

The penthouse Jackie and William shared was beautiful. The east wall of its living room was all windows, and it looked out onto Lake Michigan. A beautiful view out of a pristine home. Perfectly decorated with modern but tasteful furnishings. Priceless paintings on the walls, gorgeous sculptures on tables. Always kept clean by a hired maid. The food prepared by a gourmet cook. Everything meant for display, not so much for use. It was everything her mother had told Jackie she deserved. It was perfect. William made sure of it.

Not much room for a family to play together. For a little boy to be a little boy.

_  
_Jackie hung up the phone, her heart, the already shattered pieces of it, turning to dust. Numbly, she turned and took a few stumbles towards the middle of the room. The clicking of her high heels seemed magnified, as loud as a jet plane flying overhead. Her mind was full, too full, too many details fed to her by Jim Doyle.

They'd found some sort of shrine to her in Steven's apartment. Newspaper, magazine articles, pictures, snapshots, taped to the wall. Magazines with letters cut out of the pages scattered on the floor, presumably what he'd used to create those notes she'd received. Rope. Duct tape. Things used to kidnap her baby. Torture her baby. Kill her baby.

She didn't believe a word of it. They'd made it up. Made it all up. Because Steven Hyde did not kill her son. His son. He was many things, and capable of violence was one of them. Capable of murdering a child was not.

Light, dancing piano notes floated into the room, their tones faint. An uptempo mazurka. Chopin. To Jackie, highly inappropriate. Infuriating. She began walking, short steps that were quicker than her body had managed in over a month. Out of the living room, down the long hall to what William called the parlor, the large room they did most of their entertaining in. "William, stop," she hissed. He swayed as he played the piano, showed more passion and release sitting in front of those keys than he ever had with her. "How can you play the piano at a time like this?"

William held out the chord for a moment and turned to look at his wife. With a sigh, he took his fingers off the key, and the music died. "Was that him on the phone?"

Jackie nodded, jutting her chin straight out. She wasn't quite sure how William would react, though they both had assumed he'd call. He hated Steven. Yet, he'd expressed doubt, and in front of Jim Doyle, that Steven had done this. "Yes. He didn't do this, William."

William raised an eyebrow in a manner so graceful it seemed feminine. "Is that what he told you?"

"Of course it is," she cried, running a hurried hand through her hair. Not caring if she mussed it. Not caring in the slightest. "I believe him. I know he didn't do this. He could never have killed….our baby. Never!"

Her husband stood up, his trousers still perfectly pressed. In fact, they were a different pair than he'd been wearing earlier. He must have changed after arriving home. Of course he had. Her head had rested on his lap as Jim Doyle drove them home. She must have wrinkled them. "I don't know, Jackie. They have evidence."

She shook her head. "You yourself said that it was all circumstantial."

He nodded, but grimly. "Circumstantial evidence can win cases, if there's enough of it."

She approached him, and hesitantly placed a hand on his chest. "William." Her voice shook. "He did _not_ kill Bradley." She noticed his eyes narrow, and realized, she'd said her son's name, the first time she had since his death. "He did not."

William pursed his lips. "To be honest, I have doubts, too. It just seems too easy." Another eyebrow arch. "Your ex-lover." A sarcastic chuckle. "Too predictable. I told Jim that I wasn't completely convinced."

Her fingers curled excitedly around his shirt. "Then you have to defend him!"

He pulled her hand off of his shirt, dropped her hand, smoothed the rumple she'd left. "I can't defend him, Jackie. I'm the victim's father."

She pressed her lips together. _So you think, William. So, God help me, you'll always think. _With a slight shake of her head, she reached for his hand. "Please, William. A public defender won't do Steven any good. You know that as well as I do!"

His hand remained stiff. "Jackie, no judge in the world would let the victim's father represent the defendant." He pulled his hand away and walked back to the piano. Idly, he tapped a few keys on the low end of the scale. "Why are you so concerned, Jackie? Can't Steven's father find him a lawyer?"

She stared at his back, and at the thinning hair on the back of his head. The spot was getting larger, and she was tempted to mention that to him. His vanity was such that something like that would devastate him. "You know he and his father don't speak to one another." Her eyes closed. The low piano notes vibrated in perfect harmony with the throbbing in her temples. "Please, William, would you stop playing?"

He stopped, but didn't turn. "I'll call Alex. See if he'd be interested in taking the case."

Jackie nodded. Alex Freeze was a distant cousin's of William, and an experienced criminal defense attorney who practiced in a suburb. She liked him. He was a friendly and engaging man, not at all as affected by his success as her husband. "Thank you," she breathed.

"Aren't you going to ask what I want in return, sweetheart?"

Her eyes slowly closed, then opened. Of course he wanted something in return. That's how it worked. Like last time, when he _had_ defended Steven. His price had been keeping the marriage. "What do you want, William?" She turned and walked to the large picture window, and stared out. Grant Park. There was already a light layer of snow on the ground and in the trees. A few bundled up people walked briskly through the park, all remaining on the paths, unlike in the summer when most visitors frequented the grassy areas.

"I don't want anything, Jackie." She turned around, and he smiled. "Surprised? Come now, Jackie, am I really as bad as all that?"

"I just…" Her shoulders stiffened. "It's just that last time…"

"This is different. I was upset. I thought I was losing you to him. I don't think that now. I know you aren't in love with him. You just want to help a friend."

Her head felt so heavy, but she forced a nod. "Of course." Her voice cracked.

"And I don't believe he killed our son. I'm an officer of the court, Jackie. Sworn to uphold justice. I don't want to see an innocent man on death row for a murder he didn't commit."

Her right knee weakened, and she grabbed the window sill to keep herself on her feet. "I…I'm glad, William. Because Steven didn't do this."

He smiled, one of his most charming, and extended his hand towards her. "Come here, sweetheart. I'm worried about you. You fainted in your dressing room, and you still look pale."

Reluctantly, she obeyed him. When she came within his reach, he took her in his arms. What should be warm felt cold, and as he embraced her, she shivered. His large hand guided her head to his shoulder.

"I'll make sure Steven is taken care of, Jackie. Alex is a good lawyer. And maybe we'll hire a private detective to find the real murderer, since the police are convinced that Steven is the one."

Jackie lifted her head. "They're not going to look for the real killer?"

"Jackie, they consider the case closed. They think they've got their man."

She thought of Steven, so strong, so courageous. Not afraid of anything, even prison. And yet, she knew he couldn't stay there. He didn't belong there. It would harden him. He was already so hard and cold. He needed nurture, not capture.

"Then we definitely have to hire a private investigator." She looked up at her husband. Had she ever found him attractive? His features were so indistinct. He could be any man. Any wealthy man at all. "I'm going to see Steven tomorrow. I'll let him know what we're planning."

She thought she noticed his expression flinch, falter, for hardly a moment, then the smile. "Fine. I'll call Alex right now. He'll go with you." His fingers firmed on her back, holding her in place against him. "Get some rest, my love. He returned to the piano and sat. "I'm going to play for awhile, so if you'd rather not hear it, I suggest you go to our bedroom."

The familiar melody of "Fur Elise" made Jackie frown, and she left the room. How could he play the piano? Something so trivial? She stopped in the hallway to take her heels off, and groaned inwardly, relieved at the softness of the carpet.

Just inside her bedroom, decorated in shades of blue and mauve, a four poster king sized bed, rich maple dresser, night stands and armoires, she dropped her shoes. She closed the double doors behind her, and after glancing at the window and the seat in front of it, snapped the lock. William had a key, but at least this way she'd have warning of his entrance.

And that was a luxury.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Thanks SO much for reading and reviewing! I get a kick out of seeing what you're thinking. :)

Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Warning: **Language

**Frames **

Chapter 6

_November 29, 1986, Point Place, Wisconsin _

The guilt had eaten at her as lustily as city-dwelling pigeons feasted on tossed bread crumbs, but Donna Pinciotti had stayed true to her word. She told no one, not even her husband, about Hyde's appearance at gathering after Bradley's funeral. But as she hung up the phone in her mother-in-law's kitchen, the shake in her hand so violent it almost made the task impossible, she wished she had. Wished she'd insisted he come to the basement. Wished she'd stuck to her "fuck William" attitude rather than freaking out when the bastard returned. If what Jackie had just so hysterically told her was true, it might have been everyone's last chance to see Hyde for a long, long time.

"Donna? What's wrong? You look all pale. I haven't seen you like this since you caught me playing with my Star Wars action figures in the shower. Not that we have to talk about that again or anything. I learned my lesson."

She couldn't smile. Could hardly think. "I…uh…I think we better get everyone together. That was Jackie, and she told me…" Her eyes closed briefly. "Just get everyone down to the basement." She turned and strode out of the kitchen, into the living room, clasping her hand over her mouth as tears began to fill her eyes.

Just when she thought it couldn't possibly get any worse…

_Half an hour later, the basement _

The basement had never been this quiet, even on the rare occasion it had been empty. They'd joked about jail. Joked about breaking the law, almost every time they'd shared a circle. They'd all committed a fair amount of activities that were technically criminal, from vandalism to indecent exposure, and even, if one counted the physical fights they got into one another, assault.

Never murder.

The silence seemed active. It seemed to rip away the group's last vestige of innocence, that last shred of belief that certain things would never, ever touch them.

Only one of the four gathered didn't seem shocked. Fez sat on the lawn chair, his arms crossed over his chest, a disdainful scowl on his face. "Why is everyone so surprised? Hyde has always been violent." He looked at Kelso, who sat on the couch. "Don't you remember how he used to punch you every chance he got?"

Kelso shrugged slowly, his face pale. "Yeah, but…" He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling.

Eric cleared his throat and gripped his wife's hand, looking for a strength he didn't feel. "Um, Fez, Hyde punching Kelso isn't exactly the same as…" He licked his lisp. "Killing a baby. Jackie's baby." He stared at the floor. "He didn't do it. He couldn't have done it. He just couldn't have done it."

Donna squeezed his hand. "Of course he didn't do it. There's just no way."

Fez stood up. "How do you know? None of us even know what Hyde's been doing!"

Eric glared. "We know _Hyde_."

"No we don't. That is the point, my very foolish, sentimental friend." Fez began pacing the room, his olive-toned cheeks flushing.

"Fez, whatever's happened to Hyde the past few years, he would never hurt Jackie this way." Donna shrunk back against Eric, startled by the look on Fez's face. She'd never seen him this way; his eyes were dark with something that could only accurately be called rage. "She doesn't think he did it."

"Hyde never did anything _but_ hurt Jackie, Donna. Shall I list all the times he broke her heart? And Jackie has never been smart when it comes to Hyde." He walked over to Hyde's traditional chair, still in its proper place, and stared it down, disgust now coloring his face, his words. "He did not even come to her baby's funeral."

"Yes, he did."

Her face flamed as three pairs of eyes suddenly landed on her, each pair demanding explanation. She tried to smile, tried to come up with some way to deny, to paint her words so the truth was hidden. "I….uh, well, I mean, he came in _spirit_, I'm sure. Yeah. You know, I even thought I sensed him here." The eyes remained on her, completely disbelieving, and she sighed. "Okay, fine. He did come. Remember when William went for a walk? And then I told Jackie someone wanted to say goodbye? Hyde was outside, and he wanted to see her."

Eric frowned. "Why didn't he just come down to the basement?"

"I…I think he only wanted to see Jackie."

Fez turned and pointed at Donna. "You see? He is obsessed with Jackie." He began pacing once again. "Remember your wedding? He got drunk, and we had a circle. He kept going on and on about how beautiful Jackie was, how sexy Jackie was, how he wished she wasn't married." He wanted to say more, but closed his mouth. No. it was his secret. He would tell no one, unless he absolutely had to. It was too risky, and could ruin his life.

Eric shrugged, but his normally easy going expression was beginning to tense and darken. "So? He was drunk. And high. Drunk and high makes Hyde a little…crazy."

Kelso sighed. "Yeah. But he also told us that he kept all those newspaper clippings and magazine articles about her." He shrugged uncertainly. "It just…I mean, that's just not normal."

Eric stood up. "Donna does that! So does my mom! Doesn't mean a damn thing!"

"But this is _Hyde_, Eric! Why else would he keep those things if he wasn't creating some sick alter to her? He's never cared about her!" Fez swallowed hard, unable to contain his emotion. "He's never been good enough for her, the bastard!"

Donna shook her head. Five and a half years had not given Fez any sort of perspective, and it angered her. "Look, Fez, it wasn't Hyde's fault you and Jackie broke up, okay? Accept it. Move on!"

Fez shook his head, balling his fists, the memory of his broken dream still very much alive in his heart. "He ruined my relationship with Jackie, Donna. She was my only dream, and he destroyed it."

Kelso nodded. "He's always been good at doing stuff like that."

Eric gave him a disgusted look. "Fez, your only dream involves a candy factory and all the girls who've ever been in Playboy."

"He ruined my chance to marry Jackie!"

Donna rolled her eyes. "He did _not. _Jackie ASKED you if you would go to Chicago with her. And YOU said no. If you wanna blame anyone, blame your own frickin' self and your stupid, perverted 'needs'!"

Fez stared her down. "I said no because I knew she was going to Chicago because _he_ was there." He pointed at the others, each in turn. "We all knew that, and I wasn't gonna become another Kelso." He looked at Kelso with a slight, guilty smile. "I am sorry, Kelso, but it is the truth."

Kelso just shrugged. "Can't blame you, man."

"And now he has killed her precious baby. I hope he FRYS!"

Eric stood up with so much energy, he knocked the coffee table over. Magazines, beer cans, soda bottles, a bowl of chips, all spilled to the floor, but no one paid any attention. His face reddening by the second, he gestured wildly towards Fez. "Shut the fuck up, Fez! Hyde could never do anything like this, and if you're gonna talk like he could, then get the HELL out of my house!" Donna stood and took his arm, but he didn't move.

Something in the room, in the group's relationship, something always present, always felt, but never seen, ripped.

Fez stared coldly at the couple. "Fine. I will leave."

He stormed out, without his traditional angry farewell, and Donna shook her head. This wasn't just another fight. This was big. Huge. Life-altering.

Friendship-ending.

The door slammed shut, and she jumped.

"Kelso, for the love of God, go talk some sense into him!"

Kelso stood up slowly, his mind and body dull with confusion and no direction whatsoever. "I…I don't know if I can, Eric."

Eric's eyes widened wildly. "What do you mean by that? Oh, god, don't tell me that you believe that Hyde could….Dude, he's our _best friend_! We've known him since we were all in diapers!"

Kelso threw up his hands and walked across the room to the deep freeze. He slapped his hands down on it angrily, trying to breathe. "I know, I know! But you gotta admit…" He turned and shook his head, giving a helpless shrug. "What Fez was saying makes sense."

Donna's eyes burned with tears. Crying was something abhorrent to her, something she always did her best to avoid, but she couldn't. Not now. "So you think he did it? Is that what you're saying?"

Kelso shook his head, his eyes downcast, his jaw tensed, and slowly walked towards the basement door. When he reached it, he turned, and looked ruefully at his friends. "What I'm saying is that I don't know that he didn't."

This time, the door closed almost silently.

Eric looked at his wife. "Donna." His voice cracked. "How…how can they…"

She quickly put his arms around him, not sure if she was trying to comfort him or herself. "I don't know, Eric." She buried her head in his shoulder. Bony, as Jackie never failed to point out – or at least used to – but warm. Him. Everything she loved. His thin body trembled, and she tightened her arms.

"Donna, he didn't do this. Hyde did NOT do this."

She nodded. "I know, Eric."

Because he couldn't have.

There was just no way.

_That afternoon, Chicago, Illinois _

Jackie stared with a misty smile at the glass unicorn she held in her hands. Funny, he'd given her this exact same one when she was twelve. He probably didn't even realize that, but her bitterness was gone. Prison had changed him, and since he'd been released five years ago, just in time for her wedding, they'd grown closer than they'd ever been. She was enjoying being Daddy's little girl, and even William seemed to approve.

"Do you like it, princess?"

She nodded, and met her father's eyes. "I love it, Daddy."

Jack Burkhart smiled and reached for her hand. "I saw it in the airport, and I thought of you. I knew you had to have it. Plus…" He closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm just sorry I couldn't be there for the funeral." He squeezed her hand. "So sorry, sweetheart."

Jackie smiled weakly. "It's okay. I know you're working hard."

Jack glanced across the coffee table at William. "Yes, well," he started, his voice shaking slightly. "It's going to take me awhile to get back on my feet." He let go of Jackie's hands and twisted his own together. His daughter didn't know that he hadn't, in fact, lost all his money when he'd gone to jail. His daughter, God bless her, was naïve to financial matters, except for how to spend, and had no idea about the joys of Swiss bank accounts. "But I should have been there. I promised you at your wedding that I'd never put you second again, and I still…"

"Daddy, stop," Jackie said, leaning forward and putting a manicured hand on his knee. "I understand." She glanced at her watch, withdrew from her father and stood. "I need to go. I told Steven that I'd be there at four."

Jack frowned, his eyes darkening. "Jacqueline, I don't understand why you're going to see him. He killed Bradley." He looked at William, who simply raised an eyebrow. "Honey, I just…"

Jackie's eyes flashed. "No, Daddy, he did not kill Bradley!" Her voice rose, heat in her cheeks revealed itself in a deep flush, her fists clenched. "The police are wrong, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to prove it. We're going to hire a private investigator to find the real murderer."

Jack sighed. "But sweetheart…"

William stood. "Jackie, darling, why don't you just go freshen up? I know you don't like to go out in public looking anything but your best. Jack, how about a brandy in my office?"

Jackie nodded, but still stared at her father. "Daddy, you have to trust me. I know Steven, and I know he would never…he could never…" She nearly broke into tears, only controlling them by placing her hand tightly over her mouth. After a moment, and a deep breath, she removed it. "I'll see you at dinner, Daddy." She stepped to him and pressed a dutiful kiss on his cheek. "Trust me."

_William's office _

William sat in his leather chair, sipping very expensive brandy, and looking on mildly while his father-in-law paced back and forth in front of his cherry wood desk. "Jack, please. Just calm down. Drink your brandy."

"Why in the hell are you allowing her to go see that…that murderer?"

William sighed, and ran the tip of his index finger around the rim of his snifter. "Jackie's not well, Jack. She's very volatile right now, and I have to treat her very carefully." He leaned back in his chair and held the snifter up, catching the sunlight in the amber fluid and smiling slightly. He'd always appreciated the glow of sunlight through expensive liquor. "I've told her over and over again that there is no way possible that Hyde is innocent, but she refuses to be reasoned with. If I forbid her to see him, she'll only get worse, and I have no idea what she might do." Another sip, and his chest warmed pleasantly. "She's in deep denial, and frankly, I'm worried."

The older man, his dark hair thin and receding, a handsome face, though lined beyond his years, glared. William noticed veins throbbing in his neck, and found it somewhat amusing.

"This was supposed to be over, William! Jackie's…_involvement_ with this Hyde character was supposed to be over! She was not supposed to ever have anything to do with him again!"

William set down his snifter hard, and leaned forward with his own hard look for his wife's father. "And my son was not supposed to die, but face it, Jack, shit happens!" He pointed at the untouched snifter on Jack's side of the desk. "Sit. Drink your brandy. That's very expensive, and I won't have it wasted."

Jack hesitated, but with a sigh that wilted his body, he slunk into a chair and picked up the snifter. He took a small sip, then shook his head. "I thought we'd solved this problem. We spent all that money. Didn't you tell me she cut all ties to him? Was that money just wasted?"

William lifted a hand. "I thought it had been solved, too, Jack. And no, it wasn't wasted. He's been out of her life for over two years. But this guy is obviously obsessed with her. How was I to know that his obsession would make him do this? Or that she would react this way?" He shook his head and looked away, out the window. He really should have guessed. His idiotic wife had always been particularly idiotic about this asshole. To think, she'd almost left _him_ for the loser.

"Why was she talking about a private investigator?"

William watched a bird fly past the building towards the wide expanse of blue that was the lake. Birds. So stupid. It was a wonder more of them didn't fly right into the sides of buildings. "I'm planning on hiring one." He turned back to Jack's disbelieving expression. "Look, if anything at all, a PI will find more proof of Hyde's guilt. And if this is what it takes to convince Jackie of the truth, I'm willing to do it."

Jack stood up and walked over to the window. His voice was low, regretful, and William rolled his eyes. Regret was pointless.

"When I gave you that money, you promised me that you'd keep her away from him. You came to me and you told me how frightened you were of losing her." Jack turned and stared at the other man. "You convinced me that loaning you the money would solve everything; that Hyde would be out of her life forever."

William took a deep breath, begging the heavenly being for patience, and stood up. "And he will be, Jack. Once she comes into her senses and realizes that Hyde really did take her child from her, she won't have anything to do with him ever again." Jack's expression remained doubtful, and William raised an eyebrow. "Trust me."

He sat back down as Jack again walked to the window. Another sip of brandy, and a slight smile. The best things were always the most expensive, brandy, cigars, as well as other, intangible things.

"I hope you're right." Now Jack's tone was iced. The voice of a powerful man determined to see his will done. "Because if you're not, I'm afraid we're going to have to take drastic action. That scum will not get a grip on my princess again."

William nodded and leaned back in his chair, slipping his hands behind his head. "Don't worry so much, Jack. This is under control. The police have evidence, and the DA is building an airtight case. Drastic action won't be necessary. I got an interesting call this afternoon, from an old friend of Jackie's. Apparently, he has some information that might be useful to the DA. So, see? I'm sure people are going to be coming out of the woodwork with stories about this ass." He closed his eyes and smirked. "He'll be convicted. Sent to death row. Jackie's a star. He's a baby-killer. Juries don't like baby-killers, and they love stars."

Jack turned. "You're very calm about all this, William."

William opened his eyes. "Is that supposed to mean something, Jack?"

"No. I just wonder how you, as a father, can be so in control."

William swallowed the last of his brandy. "I have no choice, Jack." He stood, and smoothed down his jacket and the tops of his trousers. "Someone in this family has to be, if we're to see justice for Bradley." He walked around the desk and headed to the closed door of his office. "Come, now, Jack. Let's go see our sweetheart off."


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own.

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I'll do better. :) I'm taking a writing class, so I'll be splitting my time between that and this fic, but I won't abandon it. I'm really excited that you guys seem to like this! It's quite challenging, and I'm enjoying it. Thanks SO much for the reviews!!!!!!

**Warning: **Language, an adult situation at the end

**Frames**

Chapter 7

**_November 29, 1986, 3:45 pm _**

She took limos everywhere, just as she'd dreamed she would as a little girl. Shiny, black, long, huge limousines that literally screamed wealth, fame and power. Every time she got in one, though it had become routine by now, she felt the same excitement she had at six, taking her first ride on a horse. But now, as the limo headed towards the grey concrete, imposingly tall and stark Cook County Jail, it felt wrong. Her skin prickled, and she rubbed her hands over her arms to try to rid herself of the feeling.

Jackie was nervous. She hadn't seen Steven in such a long time, and her entire body was wracked with both tension and familiar anticipation of him.

So much like the first time she'd seen him in Chicago, six and a half years ago.

_May 1980, Chicago _

_Jackie tugged on her silk scarf as she walked, and looked around her in disgust. "Mrs. Forman owes me big time," she muttered, her eyes scanning the sides of Elston Avenue. Shop after shop, each one less glamorous than the previous. Mom and pop shops, she supposed, with cheap looking, brightly colored signs in the windows touting allegedly incredible deals and sales. This wasn't the Chicago she'd come to know and love; she was universes away from the glamour of downtown and Michigan Avenue. _

_She stopped at a corner and looked down the street, sighing in frustration. She had to be close. _

_"Hey, miss, ya think ya can spare some change?" _

_She turned to her right, her heart pounding, and scowled at the man who was trying to smile charmingly at her. He was dirty, his clothes ill-fitting, muddy and torn; his hair long and greasy. He had an unkempt beard that hung at least two inches below his chin. He gave her an open mouthed smile, and immediately noticed that he was missing three of his severely stained teeth. The tremble in her body intensified. "No, I don't," she snapped. She whipped her head away and took a few deep breaths, praying that the bum would just leave her alone. _

_As soon as the light changed, she strode forward as quickly as she could, and smiled when she saw the sign she'd been looking for. Tunes At Hand. The store Steven worked at, according to Mrs. Forman. Her steps quickened, just as her heart did. Only a few more steps…a few more seconds…and she was there, standing in front of Steven's store. About to see him again for the first time in months. _

_"Hey lady, you dropped this." _

_A hand touched her elbow just as she was about to open the door to the store, and Jackie whirled around. The same bum, and she glared and swatted at his still outstretched hand. "Don't touch me!" _

_The bum held out a mauve scarf. "But lady, you dropped this. Don'tcha want it?" He looked at it and smiled. "It's pretty. I could give it to my old lady if you don't want it." _

_Jackie snatched the scarf. "Get your filthy hands off of that!" _

_"Calm down, Jackie. You've got your scarf back." _

_She turned, and there he was. Her heart crushed to a stop, and her breath caught in her throat. He was looking at her, no smile, no real emotion in his face, glasses blocking his eyes, pure Zen. Even so, even though she'd hoped for at least some flicker of pleasure, she trembled. "Steven…" _

_He handed some money to the bum. "Here you go, Pete. Go buy you and your old lady some good stuff." _

_The bum grinned. "Thanks, man. You're a good man. God's blessing you." _

_Jackie licked her lips nervously when Steven gave her a disdainful look. _

_"Right. I can really feel it, man." _

_For a moment, she stood paralyzed as he turned and walked back into the store, but forced herself to follow him. She hurried, and was quickly right behind him. "You know, that bum's just gonna buy alcohol with that money, Steven." _

_He reached the counter and turned, leveling a glare at her. "So? Let him buy whatever the hell he wants." _

_She tapped her fingertips on the glass countertop between them and shook her hair over her shoulder. He wasn't going to see how this was affecting her; how seeing him, and how his continued apathy towards hers was cutting every inch of her. "So…this is where you work." She looked around and frowned. "It's not as nice as Grooves. Why didn't you ask your dad to open up a store in Chicago for you?" _

_The sound of hand slamming on glass startled her, and she looked at Steven again, her eyes wide. His jaw was tensed, lips pressed together; he looked angry. Why, she didn't know. Had something happened between him and WB? "Steven…" _

_"What are you doing here, Jackie?" _

_She sighed. "I just…Mrs. Forman wanted me to see how you were doing." She wanted to tell him that she had too, but couldn't. It wouldn't mean anything to him. That much was clear. She studied his face. He looked…unhappy. There was a certain coloring to him when he was upset, a certain tightness. He usually managed to hide it with his damned Zen, but she could see it. She could always see it. "I guess I could tell her that you're doing fine, but that would be a lie, wouldn't it?" _

_He walked around the counter, brushing past her so close he touched her, and she turned to follow him with her eyes. _

_"Since when have you had anything against lies? Just tell her I'm fine, which I am, by the way, and go on your happy way, okay?" _

_Jackie swallowed. Tears stung her eyes. She'd spent nearly an hour getting ready, making herself look as beautiful as she possibly could. For nothing. He hadn't even noticed. Of course he hadn't. Why had she bothered to hope that he would? Too much had happened. He hated her, obviously. "Why are you such a jerk, Steven? I thought…I thought you might like to see a friend." _

_He turned away from her, fiddling with a rack of records. "I'm a jerk because that's who I am." _

_He turned to face her, and the smirk on his face shot pain through her heart. A burn was coming. A painful one. _

_"And you're not a friend, Jackie. Never have been. Never will be." _

_She took a deep breath that barely managed to keep the tears in, and her throat burned. No amount of swallowing helped; the moisture immediately dried. She gripped her scarf in her hands as tightly as she could, and summoned all her pride. "Fine. I don't know why I even bothered to find you. You're just…you're just…" She winced, and a tear sneaked out. "You're not worth it. I'm sorry I came!" _

_Her feet tangled as she hurried past a few customers towards the door. Had to get out of here. Just one more time she'd humiliated herself over Steven Hyde, but this time was the very last time. _

_"Jackie. Jackie, wait." _

_She stopped just in front of the door, taking deep breaths. She told herself to leave, not to turn around, not to get caught in the trap that he was, to leave and never look back. Never think back. _

_"C'mon, Jackie. Just…wait." _

_He was closer now. Her body sensed him just a few feet behind her, and tensed A few fingertips on her back, shivers from her head to her toes, and all the insistence of her inner voice evaporated. What did her stupid inner voice know? She was lonely, and it was so good to see him, jerk that he was. _

_She turned. His glasses were off, his blue eyes softened apologetically. _

_He cleared his throat. "You…you want a beer?" He cocked his head towards the back of the store and smiled slightly. "I've got a few in the office." _

_Her lips curved upwards. "Yeah, that sounds good." _

_She followed him to the back. _

_Maybe they hadn't really ever been friends before, but there was no reason they couldn't try to be now. _

**_November 29, 1986 _**

"We're here, Jackie. Do you want me to go in with you?"

Jackie shook her head to clear the memories, and turned a smile to her bodyguard, Teddy. "No, it's okay. I'll be fine." Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed. Hopefully this meeting would start off better than that one six years ago had, although…

Her eyes opened and she looked outside at the jail.

It had been the start of something incredible.

Teddy, a veritable bear of a man, built large and strong, frowned. "I think I should. This is jail, not a shopping mall in Point Place. Those guys in there get a look at you, and who knows what they'll do."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Steven will protect me."

He always had. Always did. Always would, no matter what the circumstance. Despite everything, she was sure of that.

"He's in no position to protect you, Jackie."

She looked at Teddy, and her stomach, her nerves, everything deflated. He was right, of course. This wasn't some romantic gesture, like when Steven had taken the fall for her bag of pot so long ago. This was real. Hard, cold, and real. "O-o-okay," she stammered. "Ye-yes. You're right."

They walked slowly towards the building, Jackie lacing her arm through Teddy's as her nerves became more active in her limbs.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to see you, Jackie. I know….I know how he feels about you."

Jackie smiled weakly at Teddy. Of course he did. He'd been complacent in their affair; helping distract William, helping her think of alibis and excuses. He'd gotten along well with Steven; Jackie knew she had Teddy's complete support. "I hope you're right, Teddy," she said softly, her eyes scanning the door they were approaching. Just a few more minutes, and she'd see him.

She could only pray that she was prepared for the usual torrent of emotions.

_Twenty minutes later, a visitor's room in Cook County Jail _

She felt the bruises on Steven's face on her own, even more so in the center of her chest. He sat across a metal table, grey and drab like the concrete blocks of the walls of the small room, and the workshop-like flooring. Nothing of any color resided in this room, aside from her clothing, and even her beautiful clothes seemed muted. Her fingers locked together, and though she wanted to, she couldn't look away from him. "God, Steven, what…what happened to you?"

He smiled sardonically, his eyes not meeting hers, his hands restlessly shifting on the tabletop. "Turns out they don't like baby killers much in jail."

She leaned forward, her hands sliding across the table to take his, but he jerked his hands off the table. "But Steven, you're _not_ a…you're not a…you didn't…"

He glared at her. "You think that matters, Jackie?"

"Of course it matters, Steven!"

"Not in here it doesn't." With a heavy sigh, he sat back in his chair and looked away from her, up at the ceiling.

Jackie licked her lips and glanced to her left, where the guard stood next to the door. He was there to make sure they didn't touch beyond handholding. Not even hugging was permitted. Just another way to kill a little bit more of the prisoners, she figured. "Steven, why won't you look at me?"

He turned back, but his eyes remained averted from hers. Now they angled down at the table, towards her hands. His shoulders shrugged. "I just…Jackie, there's nothing to say. You should just leave." He put his hands back on the table.

Jackie grimaced. Typical Steven, pushing her away when he needed her the most. This time, she wasn't going to let him. She scooted her chair forward until her middle was cut by the edge of the table, and reached across it. She took his hands and held on tight, not letting him pull away from her. "I'm not leaving, Steven. I'm not letting you make me. I'm not…I'm here, and I'm going to be here, so you just better accept it!"

Her touch seemed to break him, because his eyes finally met hers, and they were wet. "I didn't…Jackie, I didn't kill him."

Jackie held his hands tighter; they were shaking. "Steven, I know you didn't…"

"I swear to God that I didn't kill our baby, Jackie!"

She smiled, tears instantly filling her eyes. "You've never…you've never called him _our_ baby before." Her heart sank. He'd never known his son, his own flesh and blood. He'd seen him half a dozen times, and all in the few days after Bradley was born. But because of her, he'd never gotten the chance to play with him, to cuddle him, love him. "God, Steven, I…" Her voice broke. How could she ever apologize for what she'd done to him? For what she'd put him through? "I cheated you….I cheated you out of him…"

He shook his head almost frantically. "I held him. I held him after he was born, remember? And I…I told him that I…even though I wasn't gonna be around…that I…"

He covered his mouth with his hand, and she watched him struggle to control his feelings, to find the Zen that had always protected him in the past.

"I didn't kill him, Jackie. I could never have…done that to him…or to you."

"I know. And that's why I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get you out of here, okay? You just…you have to let me help you. Are you gonna do that, Steven?"

Their eyes locked. Memories, emotions, suppressed desires flowed through the gazes to the bodies. The hearts.

_"God, this is so good, baby. So….damn good." _

_"Mmmm….don't stop, Steven. Don't ever, ever stop!" _

_"Huh-uh. Never gonna stop….god, Jackie!" _

He nodded. "I guess." The Zen returned. "I definitely don't wanna stay locked up in here the rest of my life." He swallowed, and turned his hands over so his held hers. "What about after? If…If I get out. What about…" He closed his eyes slowly, opened them even more so. "Us?"

The guard cleared his throat loudly, startling Jackie, and Steven too; she felt his hands stiffen. "Time's up. Lets go, Hyde."

Jackie wiped away her tears as the guard pulled Steven from his chair. Steven's eyes remained with her while the guard pulled his arms behind him and cuffed him. "Steven…"

His question echoed in her head.

_What about us? _

If only she knew. If only she could make him promises.

"Jackie, I just…they took…." The guard jerked him towards the door, and Steven gave him a nasty look. "God, just one more second!"

The guard rolled his eyes. "One more sentence, buddy. No more."

Jackie stood, clutching her purse.

"They…the cops…they took that picture. The one you gave me. Of me and…me and Bradley."

She tried to smile, tried to look confident and reassuring. "I'll bring you another one. Steven…we're going to fix this. Trust me…" She took a deep breath, and despite the fact that she knew she wasn't supposed to touch him, she rushed to him and put her hands on his chest. He needed to feel her touch. She needed to feel his heart beating. Before the guard pulled him away from her, she whispered to him. "Trust me, Puddin' Pop."

He was gone, and Jackie collapsed back into her chair. She buried her face in her hands and cried.

He'd always been her hero.

Now, she had to be his.

**_The Chicago Hyatt Regency _**

William smiled wryly. It was all so ironic. Here he sat, laden in luxurious sheets, in a bed belonging to the fanciest hotel in Chicago. Next to him on the nightstand was a flute filled with the best champagne money could buy, and a plate with the remains of mouth-watering appetizers. His body was satiated and satisfied from the sex, food and drink he'd spent the past two hours indulging in. And what was he looking at? A couple strips from one of those cheesy photo machines. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Sheree. And twice!"

The blonde next to him smirked and plucked one of the strips out of his grasp. "Oh, it was fun, Billy, and you know it." She nudged his shoulder with hers and gave him a brilliant smile. "I especially like this one. Your bald spot is so sexy." She reached up and traced slow circles on the back of his head. "You know, they say balding men have higher levels of testosterone, so you shouldn't worry so much about it. It just makes you even more of a man, Billy."

He shook his head amusedly while her lips caressed his neck with sexy slowness. She made him feel so young. Her zest, her recklessness; made him feel so alive in a way he hadn't in years. Maybe not ever. "I'm just glad to know that all I have to spend to make you happy is fifty cents." He smiled at her. "I'm a lucky man."

"Yes, you are," she said, returning his smile with a wink. "You're lucky I don't charge you my normal rates. I could, you know." Her fingers dragged up and down his chest. "But I like you too much. You're…you're special."

William watched her get out of bed and licked his lips hungrily. She went to the bathroom, then turned just at the doorway. He studied her body; slender, but not emaciated looking like his wife was beginning to look. Firm thighs, flat stomach, voluptuous and beautifully rounded breasts, so much larger than Jackie's, that gave him an endless amount of pleasure. She was fair-skinned, and perfect. He lusted after her with just one one-second glance.

"Come on, Billy. I think we both need a shower. A _hot_ shower."

He grinned and hurried to get out of bed. What a way to spend the afternoon. His wife had gone to visit her lover; he'd gone to visit his.

Seemed perfectly fair to him.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's been awhile! Crazy week. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying this, and there will be more J/H interaction as we go on. Maybe even some...hee hee. I'll let you wonder about that. :) Thanks SO much for reading and reviewing! I really, really appreciate it!

**Frames **

Chapter 8

_**December 2, 1986, Point Place, Wisconsin** _

"I told you it was an emergency. He won't listen to me." Kelso shook his head sadly, leaning against the wall near the door. "And if he won't listen to me, we got serious problems."

Donna shook her head and watched as Fez frantically moved about his bedroom, to his dresser, grabbed some clothes, back to the bed to stuff the clothes into an open suitcase. "Fez…"

Fez stopped moving long enough to point and send a nasty glare her way. "Do not try to stop me, Donna. I have made up my mind. I am going to Chicago to tell the police everything I know."

She looked at Eric, who rolled his eyes.

"And what exactly do you know?"

Fez's death stare shifted to him. "I know that Hyde killed Jackie's baby."

"Oh, whatever, Fez!"

Donna's heart twisted and she watched silently, unable to move, unable to speak, as her husband began to pace the room almost violently. When he passed Fez, she saw a look in Eric's eyes she'd never seen before; pure hatred, and it was reflected in Fez's eyes in return. Tears filled hers. Their group, bound to one another by a friendship too important to speak of, was falling apart.

"Do you people not remember what he said when Kelso found out he was going to have Betsy? He said he could never be a father. That he'd probably kill the baby, on accident or if the baby cried too much or spilled his beer."

Kelso rubbed his hand over his mouth. "That was in the circle, man. He wasn't serious." His eyes dropped to the floor, his voice lowered. "He couldn't have been serious. I mean, he's screwed up, but he's not that screwed up."

Donna looked at him, and Kelso's brown eyes, puppy-dog like in their innocence and confusion, met hers.

"Is he?"

She shook her head, hard, and pursed her mouth. "No. He's not. God, Fez, we all say stupid stuff in the circle that we don't mean. I mean, remember when Eric said that he wouldn't mind if Leia and Han Solo hooked up? Yeah. After he sobered up, he backed off that pretty fast, didn't he?"

Eric gave her a half sheepish, half irritated smirk, then moved to Fez and pushed him lightly away from the bed and suitcase. "There's no way in hell that Hyde would hurt Jackie's baby."

Fez rolled his eyes. "Yes, he would. So he could break up Jackie's marriage and have her for himself."

Donna sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "That doesn't even make sense, Fez."

"Oh, no? The only thing keeping Jackie with William was the baby, and we all know it. Hyde knew it, too."

She swallowed her retort, because she couldn't argue. Something, _something_ kept Jackie married to that bastard, and it sure as hell wasn't love. Fez's suggestion made sense; Jackie had stayed with him for the sake of little Bradley. Hell, she knew what it was like to be without parents, she would never inflict that on her own child. But still…Hyde couldn't have possibly thought that by killing her baby she'd rush back to him. She looked at Eric, whose face was nearly tomato red.

"Why are you so convinced that Hyde has feelings for Jackie, Fez? God, they've been over for years."

Fez grimaced. "It has never been over between Jackie and Hyde."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Fez sighed, and his demeanor softened into something sad, almost lost. He stared down at his half packed suitcase. "I shall tell you a story, and then you will understand." He walked over to the window and stared outside. The day was dreary, covered with a blanket of white clouds that was rumbled by a chilled wind. "The day before Hyde left Point Place, Jackie and I went to the basement. He was there, and …"

_January 3, 1980 _

_Jackie stopped walking just a few steps into the basement, and she took, or rather snatched, her hand out of Fez's grasp. Fez knew what was coming, and he glared at the cause of his girlfriend's sudden disinterest; Hyde, standing at the table in front of the couch and shoving things into a box. He cleared his throat. "Well, I see that we will find no privacy here," he said, his stomach turning even as he made purposefully raised his voice, an attempt to sound more confident. He chuckled nervously. "Unless you would like to watch us make out, Hyde, which you're welcome to do." _

_Hyde gave him a disdainful look. "Spare me, Fez. Why don't you just go to your apartment? You live together." _

_Fez glanced at Jackie, and frowned when he saw her wince. Was she wincing because she lived with him? Or because Hyde's voice was so cold? "Fine. That's what we will do. We did not want to see you anyway. Come on, Jacqueline." He reached for her hand, but she stepped away from him. Towards Hyde. _

_"Fezzy, can you give me and Steven a minute? I need to talk to him about something." _

_Fez tensed. _

_"Don't bother, Fez. I don't have anything to say to your precious 'Jacqueline'." Hyde's eyes, covered as usual by his dark sunglasses, leveled directly at Jackie, his lips curled in a cruel smirk. "So just get out of here." _

_Fez, as if watching a tennis match, looked again at Jackie, and was disheartened to find her staring right back, just as harshly, at Hyde. It reminded him of how they used to look at one another when they were together. Reminded him that they brought out so much fire in each other. _

_"Fez, go wait for me in the car. I'll be just a minute or two." She was challenging Hyde, speaking slowly, loudly, determinedly. Hyde, much to Fez's disgust, just rolled his eyes, shook his head, and returned to his packing, giving her a silent "yes" to her desire to talk to him alone. _

_He sighed angrily as he, too, gave in to Jackie's demands. "Fine. I will wait for you." But instead of turning and walking out the downstairs door, he headed across the room towards the deep freeze. "But first I am going to get a popsicle." After taking one out of the freezer, he noticed Jackie's mild look of impatience, and smiled weakly. "I'm going." _

_He climbed the stairs to the top, but, unwilling to leave his new girlfriend alone with her ex-boyfriend, decided to put his well-honed spy techniques to good use. He closed the door at the top of the stairs, then tiptoed down a few steps, so that he could see the twosome in the basement but they could not see him. _

_Jackie's face softened, and she tried to form a smile as she took a hesitant step towards Hyde. "So…you're really leaving, huh? Chicago." She shook her head. "Kind of funny that you're going there." _

_Fez could only see Hyde's back, and Hyde did not turn to look at Jackie. _

_"Yep. Real funny." _

_"I just…I guess I just don't get why you quit working with your dad. I thought you loved Grooves…well, as much as you can love anything." _

_Now Hyde's head snapped towards Jackie, and even from the distance, and despite the glasses, Fez could see the anger on Hyde's face. _

_"Get bent, Jackie. God, just get the hell out of here and go suck face with your new boyfriend." _

_He turned and stalked over to the deep freeze, but didn't open it. He simply stood in front of it, his hands on the edge of it. Fez looked at Jackie, and she was biting her lip, twisting her hands together. Nervous. Her beautiful, exotic features had clouded with sadness. _

_"Its just…it's gonna be so weird without you here. I wanted to…I just wanted to say goodbye without everyone else around. Just you and me." _

_She took a deep breath, and slowly walked towards Hyde. Fez's fists balled. _

_"Steven." Her delicate hand softly touched the stiff, muscular back she faced. "Turn around." _

_Fez expected Hyde to shake her off, to curse her with another brutal burn, but instead, he turned. And when Jackie reached up to take his glasses off his face, he didn't squirm away from her. _

_"I just wanna see your eyes one more time." _

_She smiled, and her lower lip began to quiver. Fez could see her eyes begin to shine with the light of tears. He knew he should run down the stairs in a rage and stop this scene from playing out. Oddly, though, he was fascinated by it, and that fascination kept him hidden. _

_She hooked Hyde's glasses on his shirt the way he so liked, and her hand flattened on his chest. _

_"You know, part of me still feels like we're…" _

_Hyde pulled away from her touch and brushed past her. "Don't, Jackie. Just don't." _

_Fez bit his lip. His chest hurt. _

_"Why not, Steven? I just…" Her voice rose, became tearful. She pointed accusingly at Hyde, and stepped towards him with deep red rose-flushed cheeks. "No matter how much you try to pretend otherwise, no matter how much you call me a bitch, it doesn't change the fact that we had something. You and I had something together, Steven! And it wasn't just something. It was special." _

_Fez closed his eyes. _

_Her voice broke. "At least it was to me. And I just wanna say goodbye to you, because I have Fez now, and you're going to Chicago, and…" Her voice broke into a whisper. "I know it was special to you, too." _

_He opened his eyes again, and watched, the ache in his chest now nearly a hole, as his girlfriend, the woman of his dreams, walked to another man. Her eyes locked on that other man, her complete attention on that other man, her tears rolling down her cheeks because of and for another man. _

_"I'm gonna miss you, Steven." She made a choking sound as she reached up and put her hands on his shoulders. To Fez's chagrin, again, Hyde didn't move away from her. "Probably for the rest of my life." _

_Fez leaned forward, the hole in his chest widening, and stared as his girlfriend pulled Hyde into a hug. At first, Hyde remained stiff, even as Jackie buried her head in the crook of his neck, leaving Hyde's face exposed to Fez's eyes. His face was cold. Ice. He didn't hold Jackie in return. _

_For a moment. _

_And then, without warning it melted. Twisted, Hyde's eyes closed, his arms wrapped around Jackie's tiny frame as if clinging to a life preserver. His head turned into her, plunging into the hair Fez knew was silky and soft as rose petals. Sweet smelling as rose petals, too. _

_Fez's throat burned with bile. It was going to get worse. _

_And it did. _

_Jackie slowly pulled away, Hyde slowly pulled away, but only a matter of inches. Their eyes still fastened on one another, both mouths slightly opened, and in a matter of seconds, those mouths had joined in a deep kiss. _

_Again, Fez knew he should stomp as noisily as he could down the stairs and catch the two in the act. _

_He was paralyzed. By pain, of course, but again, that stupid, unwelcome fascination. _

_Something in the way Hyde's hands widened and touched her, weaving over her back, as if mere touch wasn't enough to satisfy his need for her. Something in the way Jackie so easily pressed herself into him, like he was her perfectly formed cocoon. _

_It finally ended, and Fez shook his head. He heard them breathing heavily, saw their swollen lips, noticed that even Hyde's cheeks had turned pinkish. _

_"I have to go. Fez is waiting for me." The smile she gave Hyde was wistful, as was the stroke of his cheek by her fingertips. "Take care of yourself, Steven, and just…" Her slight shoulders raised. "Just remember that you have potential." _

_Fez sat up straight, but relaxed slightly when she exited through the downstairs door. He began to stand, wondering what in the hell he was going to do now, was he going to confront her? Pretend it had never happened and be relieved in the fact that Hyde was going to leave Point Place, hope it was forever? _

_He looked at Hyde. _

_Hyde stood still, as if in shock, and slowly lifted his hand to his lips. His fingers brushed repeatedly his lips. And then for a few seconds, his face fell into a child-like expression of pain, squeezed together with the rush of tears. _

_But only for a few seconds. Then the Zen returned. An angry sigh, a rough shake of the head. The sunglasses went back on, and he walked back to the couch, his back once again turned to Fez as he returned to his packing. _

_**December 2, 1986** _

"She was never the same after that." Fez still stared out the window as he finished his tale. "She was not fun, and she would not eat my candy, or…fulfill my needs." He shook his head. "Then two months later she decided to go to Chicago. And I know it was because of him." He took a deep breath and turned back towards his friends, his resolve renewed. "I am going to Chicago. And none of you sons of bitches can stop me." He walked back to his bed and resumed packing.

Donna sighed. "Won't Nina miss you, Fez?"

"No. She is too busy being the queen bitch at the DMV to notice my absence."

Donna glanced at Eric, who didn't appear moved by Fez's story. Truth be told, she was, sort of. She could understand why Fez had hard feelings, but none of it translated into Hyde being capable of murder. "Fez…"

He slammed the suitcase closed. "No. I am going to Chicago. Jackie never got over Hyde, and I am going to make him pay for that."

Donna shivered. Never before had she heard Fez sound so cold.

Never before had she heard _anyone_ sound so cold.

And never before had cold seemed so frightening.

_**Cook County Jail, Chicago, Illinois** _

"I have to tell you, Steven, it doesn't look good. From what I've gathered, the police have a great deal of evidence of you. Magazines with letters cut out that match the letters Jackie received…"

Hyde glared across the metal table at his attorney. "Not mine. God, one of them was Vogue. I'd never read Vogue!"

"Yes, a Vogue that Jackie had been on the cover of, no?" Alex Freeze, a well dressed, well groomed man in his mid forties, raised an eyebrow.

Hyde looked away guiltily. He actually had bought that Vogue. Just for her picture. Just to see her. Just to have her presence.

"That alter with all the pictures…"

Another glare, and this time, Hyde nearly jerked out of his chair. "I told you, man, I didn't put that thing together! I mean, god, yeah, I had the pictures, but I didn't…" He looked up at the ceiling, and then, overcome by a rush of rage, slammed his hands down on the table. The pain didn't matter. Didn't even occur to him. "Someone's setting me up! Someone's framing me!"

"Who?"

"I don't know! That's what you're supposed to find out!"

Alex sighed. "Okay, look. I've got a private investigator on the case, and we'll get to the truth. But there's something you should think about. Jackie's a star. People love her."

Hyde nodded. "Yes, and she knows I didn't do this."

The lawyer hesitated. "Yes. Right now she believes that."

Cold erupted through Hyde's chest. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I've seen it happen before, Steven. People often believe one thing, and then come to believe another. The police and prosecutors can be persuasive."

Hyde stood up. "No. No way in hell." His face flushed. "Jackie won't turn on me. She knows…she _knows_. She knows that I love her and would never…"

Alex frowned. "Wait. You _love _her? Just how much do you _love_ her?"

Hyde stared at his attorney, supposedly a man on his side. Supposedly someone he could trust. Right now, all he could see in the man's eyes was accusation and disbelief. "Aren't you supposed to believe me when I say that I didn't do this?"

"I need to know about your relationship with Jackie. Everything about your relationship with Jackie." Alex's face softened and she smiled slightly. "Look, Steven, I need to know so I can anticipate what the DA is going to try to use. Trust me, Steven. The DA will use anything in any way he can, even if it means completely warping the truth. You say you love her, the DA will say you're obsessed with her."

The guard cleared his throat. "Times up, fellas."

Alex sighed. "Okay, look. I want you to write down everything that's happened between you and Jackie in the past few years. Everything. I'll make arrangements to pick it up tomorrow, and when I see you the day after, we'll talk about it."

Hyde nodded, his eyes dully watching his lawyer standing and shuffling his papers into his fancy suitcase.

Later, he sat on his bed in his cell, staring at the words he'd written, wondering if he should add more. Words that said Bradley had been his son, and that he'd never kill his own flesh. His own baby. His eyes wandered away, to his bed, to the picture Jackie had brought just yesterday for him.

The day Bradley was born. The only day Hyde had spent with his son. That day had almost felt real, like he and Jackie and the baby were a real family.

He dropped his pen and reached out to trace the pictured tiny baby with his finger. Closed his eyes and tried to remember how it had felt to hold him.

His arms ached for the little body, warm, squirming. Soft. Ironically, quite like what Jackie always felt like in his arms, just in a smaller degree.

"Jackie," he whispered. "Jackie, god, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

On the bunk above, Hyde's roommate, Epstein, groaned silently and slipped his pillow over his head. He wished his roommate would shut the hell up. Always, at night, he'd start mumbling about some chick named Jackie and being sorry.

Made him kind of curious as to just what the freak was sorry for. He never said what he was in for, and truth be told, Epstein didn't have the nerve to ask. The guy had a quick, fiery temper, and was strong.

Very, very bad combination.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own. I also don't own the character I borrowed from another television show that I used to love. :) It was a complete whim. :)

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading and reviewing! Yes, I have Fez issues. He must pay for being the "favored" one in the show's actual season 8. Grrrrr. I appreciate so much your comments and the fact that you're reading this!

**Frames **

**Chapter 9 **

_December 4, 1986, Cook County Jail, Chicago, Illinois _

_I wish I could make you promises, Steven. I wish I could tell you that we'll be together again someday, but I can't. Not only because I'm married, but because you hurt me, Steven. We had a fight, and you slept with that girl, just like you did before. We have so many issues, I don't even know if it's possible for it to change. It doesn't change how I feel about you. You know that I love you. I'll always love you. I just don't know if we can be together without hurting each other and I'm tired of being hurt, Steven. And tired of hurting you. _

Hyde looked away from the letter, his heart plummeting to the soles of his feet. She hadn't come today, instead, she'd sent a letter. Something about a photo shoot she had to go to. Sure. And now he was lying on his unsympathetic bed, reading words that made his soul cringe. Especially because he knew he deserved no better. That stupid chick in the bar. He winced. Still couldn't remember how in the hell it had happened, and it had cost him her.

_We have other things to worry about right now, anyway. We have to get you out, and Steven, we are going to get you out. I will do whatever I have to do to get you out. I promise you, Steven. Nothing will change that, okay? So don't stop trusting me. I will do ANYTHING to help you. You don't trust anyone, I know, but you have to trust me. Trust me, Puddin' Pop. _

His eyes closed. Trust her. How? And yet, he did. He had to. She was his only hope. His only help. The only way he was ever going to get out of this disaster.

"Hyde. Up and at 'em. Your lawyer's here to see you."

Hyde reluctantly sat up and put the letter under his pillow. Time to go convince his lawyer that he wasn't a baby killer.

_2011 La Salle Avenue, Warner & Bonner Law Offices _

William set the glass of brandy down in front of his new ally, and quickly returned to his lush, leather chair with a smile. "So, I take it that you've spoken to the police?"

Fez stared at the brandy for a moment with some uncertainty. "Uh, yes, yes, I have." He smiled. "They were very friendly and shared their donuts with me." He looked around the office, his eyes wide. "You must be very rich to have an office like this."

William nodded, appraising the younger man with studious eyes. Fez was a character, amusing, naïve, sometimes rather intellectually challenged. "Yes. I am." He tapped the edge of his snifter. "Fez, I want to thank you for coming forward. I'm sure you've been very helpful." He pushed his drink away, stood, and walked to the large window on the other side of his office. The view was of La Salle Street, and at midday, Chicago was all hustle and bustle. Business people walking to their favorite bistros for lunch, walking more leisurely back to their offices after their meal. He watched, and a slight smile crossed his lips. "You know, Jackie told me once that leaving you was the biggest mistake she ever made." He turned and looked at Fez. "You really care for her, don't you?"

Fez sat straight in his chair and stared, his eyes brimming with surprise and hope, at William. "Yes. I…" His expression darkened, and he looked away, his eyes moving downcast. "She was my dream."

"Until Steven Hyde ruined it."

Fez's head popped up, and again, his expression held surprise. "Yes, that is exactly what happened."

William nodded, and forced gravity on his face. "He is poison to her, Fez." He began pacing and gesturing wildly with his hands, as if what he was saying caused him great pain. "He has been for years. Jackie told me how much he hurt her."

Fez frowned and balled his fists. "Yes. He broke her heart over and over. And he was never sorry. All he ever said was 'whatever.' He did not care, cold bastard, how she cried over him."

William purposefully breathed harder, and whirled to stare at Fez, making sure his features were full of anguish. "And yet he has some sort of hold over her. Like Rasputin had over Tsarina Alexandria." He waved away the look of confusion on Fez's face, and resumed pacing. "Fez, he has her so twisted that she actually believes they had an affair. That Bradley, _my_ son, was actually his bastard."

Fez stood so abruptly the chair he'd been seated on toppled backwards to the floor. "But that cannot be true! When I asked her…"

William noticed a hesitation, a more than subtle doubt in Fez's eyes, and briefly wondered what he was going to say before he choked his words off.

"It is not true, is it?"

"Of course it isn't, Fez!" William moved to stand in front of Fez and looked directly into the other man's eyes. He spoke in a mustered anger. "She's delusional. Hyde has her so mixed up she can't see straight." He took a breath. "She never had an affair with Hyde. Bradley is my child. And Jackie is slowly losing her mind because of that sick bastard." He shook his head. "Breaking her heart was not enough for him. Killing her child was not enough for him. He is bound and determined to drive her insane." He forced his voice into thick brokenness. "And it scares me, Fez. What's happening to Jackie scares me."

Fez's gaze steeled, and William was pleased to see a bitter resolve flush in his face. "He is torturing her. He has to be stopped."

The statement was so melodramatic, William almost failed to restrain the chuckle in his chest. He cleared his throat, and walked back to his chair. He sat, and took a sip of his brandy, his eyes remaining on the angry and determined looking Fez. He had the fool exactly where he wanted him. "Yes, he must. Jackie must be convinced of the truth, and that's where you come in. You truly care for her, and she needs you." He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "Have another drink. I have a proposition for you, and I think you'll find it very intriguing."

_Cook County Jail _

Hyde stared at his attorney with a slight and sour smile. The man held the papers on which Hyde had confessed all about his relationship with Jackie, and was looking at them with clear disbelief. "You don't believe me, do you?" He shook his he and looked away, anger burning in the pit of his stomach. Of course his lawyer didn't believe him. No one believed him. No one except her, and she wasn't here.

Alex's eyes lifted, and he swallowed, almost nervously. "You had an affair with Jackie. She was going to leave William for you." His brow furrowed. "Why didn't that happen?"

Hyde closed his eyes, and heard the words she'd written in her letter as if she was next to him now, whispering them in his ears. _I wish I could tell you that we'll be together again someday, but I can't. Not only because I'm married, but because you hurt me, Steven. We had a fight, and you slept with that girl, just like you did before. _He didn't turn to meet the gaze he felt. "I screwed up," he muttered. He stared at the wall, but he could see her. The look in her eyes when she'd found out. The sadness, but no disbelief at all. No surprise. She'd probably half expected it. "I hurt her, and she…she'd had enough."

_There is no us anymore, Steven. _

He hadn't blamed her for the words, or for the coldness in her eyes when she'd said them.

"I don't understand. If your relationship with Jackie ended in 1982, how can you be Bradley's father?"

Hyde's lips curled upwards slightly, involuntarily. Couldn't help it, really; every time he thought about that night it happened. "We, uh, we hooked up one night. At our friends' wedding in Wisconsin. In '84." His eyes closed. Sex with Jackie had always been incredible, but that night, whether it was just pent up emotions or the booze, or the wedding; whatever it was, it had been the hottest night he'd ever had with anyone.

"Is there any proof that you're Bradley's father?"

"She put my name on his birth certificate." Alex said nothing in response, and Hyde looked at him. The lawyer was looking back, obviously studying him, obviously searching for hints of truth or lies.

"I'll have to verify all this with Jackie."

"Fine, 'cause it's the truth."

Alex sighed, and again, his expression seemed troubled. He glanced down at the papers. "Does William know about all this?"

Hyde nodded. "Yeah. Except…" He swallowed. "He doesn't know that Bradley is…was…mine." His stomach twisted with sudden nerve. Sudden fear.

Something just wasn't right.

"Okay. Your bail hearing is tomorrow, but don't get your hopes up. We're up in front of a conservative judge. If he even grants bail, it'll be ridiculously high."

Hyde shrugged. He hadn't bothered to hope for bail. He was a baby killer. What kind of judge would let a baby killer out of jail? None in this world. He looked away, at the wall, as his lawyer continued to speak meaningless words that melded together.

He wondered if Jackie would be there.

His eyes closed.

Jackie.

_Warner & Bonner Law Offices _

"So, we have a deal. You do whatever it takes to make Jackie see the truth…"

Fez interrupted with an excited smile. "And you will give me Jackie."

William nodded, a mild smirk on his lips. Fez had been easier to manipulate than he'd imagined. "Yes. After Hyde is convicted, Jackie and I will divorce, and she will be yours." All it had taken was some pandering; yes, Fez, I know deep down Jackie loves you. Fez, I care enough about her that I want whatever makes her the happiest, and I know now that is you. Yes, Fez, you are the man of her dreams. He'd sounded like a pathetic wuss, but it didn't bother him.

Whatever it took to make this happen was worth it.

Fez nodded, his eyes bright as a child in front of a Christmas tree surrounded by gift after colorfully wrapped gift. "And I can do whatever necessary to convince Jackie of the truth? What if it is necessary for me to seduce her?"

William took a dainty sip of his brandy. "Whatever it takes, Fez. If that means you have to sleep with her, so be it." He almost laughed when the other man eagerly sat forward in his chair. Very easily pleased, this one. The best kinds of fools, he'd decided.

"I just have one question."

The keen smile was gone, and William raised an eyebrow.

"How do I know that you will keep your word?"

William stood and smiled genially. "Fez, I am a man of honor. But I am also a lawyer." He walked around his desk to a large, oak filing cabinet. He pulled the top drawer open and removed a manila folder. "I put everything in writing." He went back to his desk and sat down, opening the folder and pulling out a piece of paper. He showed it to Fez. "This is a contract between you and I. It lays out all that we've discussed today." He handed it to Fez. "No need for you to read it."

Fez took the paper and scanned it with a slight frown. "But there are so many words."

William smiled. "Legalese, my friend. It takes lawyers twenty-five words to say what a normal man could say in two."

Fez looked up and smiled. "That is what I have heard. Also that two lawyers at the bottom of the ocean would be a good start."

William chuckled, and grabbed a pen out of his genuine marble holder. "Exactly. Now, just sign at the bottom, where that "x" is, and you'll be one step closer to getting Jackie back. For good. And Steven Hyde will never be able to ruin it for you again."

Twenty minutes later, William sat in his chair, his eyes fixated on the contract his new and official ally had signed. He smiled.

Sucker.

The phone rang, and he immediately picked it up. "William Bonner. Oh, yes, hello, Brian." He leaned back in his chair and listened as his long time friend and newly appointed campaign manager spoke. There was no one he trusted more to run his campaign for district attorney than Brian Bosania. "Yes, yes, I understand your concerns, Brian. She's certainly not herself. But…" He closed his eyes in irritation. "I know, I know. She'll make me appear soft on crime. Yes. But just listen, Brian. She's coming around. Soon she'll realize the truth, and she'll be an angry and vengeful, grieving mother, just the way we want her to be. Don't worry about the money. The documents arrived yesterday, and I should have access to the account by Monday."

He smiled wickedly as he hung up the phone. Funding his campaign would certainly not be an issue, thanks to Jack Burkhart, and the trust fund he'd set up for his spend-happy daughter. The trustee, of course, was her loving husband.

She'd never know the money was gone. Hell, she didn't even know about the trust. It was the perfect solution, since his own father had suddenly become stingy with his money.

Ah, yes. Jackie was turning out to be quite the asset to him and his political ambitions. And when she finally was convinced of Steven Hyde's guilt, she'd be even more useful to him.

He stood up and walked to his window, again watching the people below. District attorney, then to the state government, then the US Senate, and eventually the White House. His goals. So within reach, with just a little hard work.

And his wife was going to help him attain them, whether she liked it or not.

_Cook County Jail, late afternoon _

"Is this about my knocking that one dude out? Cause if it is, I can explain. I got a note from my mother."

Chicago deputy district attorney Rob Noble took the proffered folded piece of paper from the mangy looking inmate with a mop of curly black hair. He shook his head, opened it, and read it out loud. "Dear Mr. D.A. Please forgive my son Juan for knocking that one dude out. He can't help it. His father was a no good bum who knocked dudes out for a living, and its all Juan knows. Signed, Epstein's mother." Rob looked up at the inmate who bore a hopeful smile, and shook his head. He tossed the note aside. "Look, Mr. Epstein…"

Epstein sat up straight in his chair and puffed his chest out proudly. "Mr. Epstein, eh? I ain't never been called Mr. Epstein before."

"Mr. Epstein, what I want to talk to you about is your cellmate, Steven Hyde. I want to know if he's said anything to you about why he's in jail."

Juan shook his head, slightly nervously. Bad temper, that guy had, and he knew how jail worked. Nothing was secret. Jail was almost as bad as high school. "Nothing, man. Like, I when I asked him what he was in for, he just told me, 'up your nose with a rubber hose'." Epstein laughed, but quickly stopped when the DA did not join him. He shifted on his seat. "He ain't said nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

Epstein shrugged. "Well…I don't know if this means anything, but at night, he's always whining to some chick named Jackie about how sorry he is. He's all, _I'm sorry, Jackie. So sorry, Jackie._" He rolled his eyes in disgust. "It's sickening."

Rob smiled. "So he mumbles apologies to Jackie, huh? Listen, Mr. Epstein, would you be willing to testify to that in court?"

Epstein sat back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. "Well, that depends, Mr. DA. Would you be willing to do something about my sentence?"

The lawyer nodded, his smile remaining. "Oh, I think we'll be able to work something out for you."

Epstein smiled broadly. "Well, then, you got yourself a deal!"


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's been a little while. I was a little blocked. I think I'm okay now. :) Thanks so much for the reviews!!!!! I'm hoping you're enjoying this! This chapter got a little racy (not too much, but hey, it wasn't supposed to at all and yet it did), so it's rated Rish. Just a warning. Happy reading!

**Warning:** A little...adultish. :)

**Frames **

Chapter 10

_December 5, 1986, Cook County Courthouse _

The courtroom was impressive. Pink marble flooring, warm, cherry-tinted wood tables, chairs, paneling on the walls. A huge form of the state seal in gold plated metal, hanging high behind the judge's bench, flanked on either side by the United States flag and, raised slightly lower, the state flag of Illinois. Every item in the large room seemed to purposefully add to the grave grandeur of it.

Yet, its somber beauty was a mockery to Jackie. Everything around her was tainted by utter wrongness. The cold bench she sat on, the even colder touch of her husband's hand atop hers, the murmurs from indistinct faces in the packed room, the slump of Steven's shoulders a few feet in front of her.

It was wrong. None of this should be happening. Her baby – Steven's baby – should still be alive, and the three of them should be walking off into the sunset together.

Of it all, the worst was the words tumbling so easily and decisively out of the judge's mouth.

"I don't believe the defendant is a flight risk. However, due to the defendant's frequent outbursts of temper, I _do_ believe that the defendant quite possibly poses a danger to society. Coupled with the nature of the crime, I have grave reservations about releasing the defendant. Therefore, I'm denying bail."

"NO!" Jackie stood, and despite the sudden weight of every pair of eyes in the courtroom on her, she looked nowhere but at the judge. "No…wait. He's not guilty! You have to give him bail." She pulled away from William's grabbing hands and rushed towards the judge. As she passed the defendant's table, she thought she heard Steven say her name, but it was too vague, too grey in her fired-up mind. "Please, Judge, Steven did not do this! You can't keep him in jail!"

She was stopped just short of the judge's bench by a bailiff, a huge man who pressed his hands on her shoulders. She winced and struggled to look around the guy, to catch the judge's eyes and, she prayed, his sympathy. "I'll pay whatever bail you set! He's not...You can't keep him in jail! He's not…he didn't do this!"

The judge frowned. "Bailiff, please escort Ms. Burkhart out of the courtroom."

Jackie couldn't prevent the colossal hulk from turning her around and nearly pushing her towards the door at the back of the courtroom. She stumbled forward, but her body stiffened to give her enough time to catch and hold Steven's stunned eyes. "Steven," she breathed, trying to hold in her tears, trying to breathe enough to stay on her feet. "Steven, Zeppelin! Just like…" The bailiff's grasp on her back firmed and she was forced forward another few steps. "Zeppelin, Steven! Zeppelin!"

Just before she was shoved past Steven, she saw his mouth move. Her breath was heavy in her ears, preventing her from hearing much of anything at all but a low murmur all around her; she didn't hear his words. But she read his lips.

"More than Zeppelin, doll."

_Twenty minutes later _

Jackie sat in William's beautiful Bentley, the cold of the white leather seats seeping through even her thick winter coat. Normally, this car pleased her, made her feel extremely beautiful and important. But today, much like the courtroom, the elegance and prestige of the car screamed "wrong". William was chastising her, loudly, angrily, but she hardly heard a word.

"Damn it, Jackie, are you listening to me?"

She felt the slap of his hand to her thigh, and she whipped her head towards him. "Yes, William, I am. And I already told you that I'm sorry! I just…" She shook her head and drew herself away from him, towards the door. "I just can't bear to think of Steven being locked up for this." She swallowed and looked out the window. The streets of Chicago, the skyscrapers she normally adored looking up at, were a blur that didn't matter at all. "He's already been beat up. I don't know what's gonna happen to him." She turned and looked at her husband again, this time accusingly. "You told me that you talked to the judge. You told me that he was going to give Steven bail."

William shoulders lifted, and his eyes remained focused on the road ahead of him. She noticed a slight tension in his jaw. "I did, Jackie, but apparently the judge disagreed with me." He looked at her briefly, and she could see his disgust. "You really humiliated yourself, you know that."

"Don't you mean I really humiliated you?" She shook her head and again looked out the passenger side window at a world that was steadily turning grey.

"Did you really think the judge would change his mind after your little rampage? Please. You acted like a crazy woman."

Tears filled Jackie's eyes.

_Maybe I am crazy. Maybe everything has finally driven me crazy. _

"Anyway, it's pointless to argue about this."

"It wouldn't have been, if you really had talked to the judge like you said you would!"

Another slap to her thigh, this time hard enough to leave a lingering sting. Odd; the words he spoke immediately afterwards were spoken in such a calm and controlled voice.

"I did, Jackie, whether you believe me or not. Besides, we wouldn't have been able to pay the bail. He would have set the bail in the millions."

Jackie turned to him, her left hand rubbing her sore thigh. "What? But we're rich."

He smiled. "Not that rich, my dear." He glanced at her, an eyebrow cocked. "By the way, what was all that nonsense about Zeppelin? Who _is _Zeppelin?"

She almost laughed; she could almost hear the outrage that would color Steven's voice had he ever been asked that question. But she stopped herself and looked away, before her eyes, always her greatest betrayers, did so again. "Nothing. Just…someone we used to know."

She prayed that he didn't realize the weakness of her answer.

_An hour later, William's office _

William stood at his window, his face warm with renewed anger. Jackie had behaved like a spoiled child in the courtroom, and though he'd tried to distact himself with work, he kept thinking about her public meltdown.

Public meltdown.

_Public._

He smiled and turned away from the window. He returned to his desk and sat down, picking up a pen and tapping the fingers of his left hand on the manila folder he'd abandoned a few minutes earlier. He'd called her a crazy woman. She'd acted like a crazy woman, in front of other people. People he knew. People who could testify to her behavior should the need ever arise.

"Oh, my sweet," he whispered, his smile broadening. "You've played right into my hands, and you don't even know it." His eyes flickered to the framed picture of her he kept on his desk, and his smile faded. "You stupid, stupid bitch."

_Jackie and William's apartment _

Jackie lay on her bed, curled on her side, her eyes closed, a tee shirt clutched to her chest the way she used to hold her baby boy when he was tiny. She was exhausted, her entire body shivering with weakness, but she couldn't sleep. The shirt still smelled slightly of Steven, strongly enough to penetrate her senses, weak enough to leave her desperate for more. She opened her eyes and pulled the shirt up so she could see the front of it. His Zeppelin shirt.

Zeppelin. The code that even Steven, commitment and emotion phobic Steven, had been able to deal with.

She smiled and brushed away a tear. It hadn't been that long ago. She could still feel it, feel him, feel them.

_Steven loved feeling her hair on his skin, and so, as she had from the beginning, she lay on him with her ear to his heart, her hair feathered over his naked chest. Her arm reached across him to his right arm, and she softly touched his bicep, over and over again. _

_"So, you're really gonna leave him?" _

_Jackie tightened her fingers around the hard muscle of his upper arm and smiled at the hope in Steven's voice he was failing to hide. "Aww, do you want me to, Puddin' Pop?" She was rewarded for that with a swat of his hand to her rear end, and she giggled. She lifted up and shifted so her body was completely on top of his. She brushed her lips lightly over his. "You know I'm going to, Steven." He smirked at her, and she stared into his eyes; so beautiful and blue and deep that she wanted to dive in and never come up for air. As a tidal wave of love for him rushed over her heart, her smile faded. "I love you so much, Steven, and all I want is to be with you." _

_She waited, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but instead of saying anything, he raised his chin and kissed her. _

_"Steven," she whispered when it ended. Her lips hovered over his; the warmth of his breath made her entire body tingle. "You love me too, right?" _

_Another kiss, a bit deeper and slower. _

_But it wasn't enough, and Jackie pulled up with a sigh. "Steven, you still can't say it?" He rolled his eyes, and she rolled off of him, all the way to her side so she wasn't even facing him. She pressed her lips together and tried not to cry. She'd thought he finally trusted her enough, believed in her feelings for him enough to share his with her. _

_Obviously not. _

_"Jackie, come on." _

_His arms wrapped around her and pulled her back into his, and though she knew she should, she couldn't pull away. Instead, she tugged the hand that was pushing under her side to her stomach and pressed his hand down into her naked skin. "I know you love me, Steven, so why can't you say it?" _

_He nibbled on her earlobe. "If you know I do, why do I have to say it?" _

_She shrugged his head away from hers. "It's just nice to hear sometimes," she answered, her voice quiet even in her own ears. _

_He pressed his body tight against her, leg moving to blanket hers. His right hand slid up her stomach to rest in the valley between her breasts as he whispered huskily to her. "Doll, you know how I feel about you." _

_Jackie's eyes closed. He was using his well practiced and always effective trick, kissing a certain spot on her neck that weakened all her resistance, all her everything. "Steven," she sighed, sweet and slow arousal twittering in her stomach. _

_"Besides, I'd rather show you than tell you." A long kiss to her neck, the light scrape of her teeth over her skin. "Come on, baby. I wanna show you." _

_She winced; every inch of him was pressed to her and the heat from his hard body was flustering her. "We should…oh…" His hands cupped her breasts. "God, Steven…maybe we could…yeah…have like a code word or something." _

_He sighed a little impatiently, and she was almost angry at herself when he rolled away from her. But she ignored it, and flipped over, again positioning herself on top of him. It was easier to get him to agree to things when he was turned on. She rubbed her hips over his, and he moaned softly. "Something you wouldn't feel uncomfortable saying. Like…" She grinned and rubbed her nose against his. "Zeppelin." _

_He made a face at her. "Zeppelin?" _

_"You love me more than Zeppelin, don't you?" She nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder and began kissing, soft and damp kisses that she knew drove him crazy. Her hand slipped slowly and seductively up and down his chest, her fingertips using light pressure that she was sure would burn him into submission to her. "Don't you, Steven?" She arched her back, pressing her bare chest deeper into his, shifted her middle over his erection, and his resulting moan of pleasure vibrated into her. "Huh, baby?" _

_"God, Jackie…yeah…yeah, baby…" _

_"So you can say Zeppelin when you wanna tell me you love me." _

_She kissed his lips, opening her mouth and sliding her tongue into his waiting and warm one. "I love you, Steven." She pulled her lips away, just an inch or two, and looked down at him. _

_He smirked and shook his head slightly, but his hands tenderly softened on her rear end and moved up to her shoulder blades. "Zeppelin, doll." He lurched up and kissed her hard before breaking away to whisper. "More than Zeppelin." _

_Before she could squeal in happiness, he'd flipped her over and was torturing her with passionate bites on her neck and touches all over her shaking body. She writhed and tried to convince him, with her own strategically placed kisses, licks, nibbles and caresses, to drive into her increasing ache. She groaned in frustration the fifth time he teased her only to pull his hips back with a growl of her name. "Steven!" _

_He drew away from her breasts and kissed her lips gently. She looked up at him, both of them breathing hard, and his eyes, softer than she'd probably ever seen them, lowered to hers until she truly felt part of him. Her body arched up to his, his down to hers, and finally, slowly and oh so softly, he filled her. _

_"I love you, Jackie." _

Jackie rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling with a slight smile. It had been years since that night, but she could still see that look in his eyes every time her own closed. She spread the shirt across her chest and squirmed uncomfortably. That was the problem with remembering her time with Steven; she always ended up sexually frustrated.

She chuckled. "Guess I could always go over to William's office," she muttered. Right. Not even. She and her husband weren't exactly passionate lovers, never had been, really. And really, Jackie didn't mind. She could live without sex.

Except, of course, when Steven was around.

Tears filled her closed eyes and she squeezed them.

Who knew when he'd be around again; _if_ he'd be around again.

The phone rang, and Jackie opened her eyes. She didn't want to answer it, but it could be – probably was – her agent. And her agent tended to come over if she didn't answer the phone. Reluctantly, but anxious to keep her agent away, she was in no mood for company, she reached for the phone.

And prayed that the call wouldn't last long.

_An hour later ,William's office _

"So, what brings you here, Alex?" William sat down after shaking his cousin's hand. "If this is about Jackie's behavior in court…"

Alex shook his head. "No. But it is about Jackie." He sat down and gazed seriously across the table. "My client says that he and Jackie were lovers. He also claims that Bradley was his child and not yours." He leaned forward. "I need to know if that's true, William."

William, ever the actor, smiled sardonically and leaned back in his chair. "I've never heard such a ridiculous claim in my life."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "So it's not true?"

"Of course it's not true, Alex!" He rolled his eyes. "Jackie and your client had …" He formed quotations with his fingers. "A relationship, if you want to call it that, while they were in high school. But that was over years ago. My wife has been faithful to me our entire marriage. And Bradley was my son, no doubt about it."

"He says his name is on Bradley's birth certificate."

William chuckled. "A pathetic attempt to fool you, Alex."

Alex sighed. "Damn. I had a feeling he was lying, but…" He arched his eyebrows. "I'll have to talk to Jackie about this, William."

William nodded. "Be my guest. She'll tell you just what I did."

After a few more minutes of conversation, Alex left, and William's façade crumbled. His eyes narrowed and he quickly went to his file cabinet. Pulling open a drawer, he mumbled obscenities until he found the folder he wanted. He smiled, and moved back to his desk. He opened the folder and found what he was looking for. Shaking his head, he took the paper out of the folder and quickly scanned it.

"Jackie, my dear, obviously you need a little refresher course on the terms of our agreement."


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the reviews! I really appreciate them! And I really appreciate you hanging in with me on my angsty story. Shaking head. One day I'll write a pure happy one. Maybe. I do have a one-shot Christmas one in mind that will involve the J/H from Cliches that I think I'll write. Anyway! Thanks to those of you who've read everything I've written...you guys are just so great (and patient!)!

**Frames **

**Chapter 11 **

_December 6, 1986, Point Place, Wisconsin _

Eric Forman stared down at the plate his wife had just set in front of him and did his best to smile, though the mangled, odd colored slab of meat and even odder-looking mashed potatoes looked anything but appetizing. "Uh…looks great, sweetie."

Donna sat down next to him and raised her eyebrow. "Why don't I believe you?" She held up a hand. "Don't answer that." Her shoulders slumped, and her lips pursed in frustration. "God, almost two years of marriage and I still can't cook!"

Eric shook his head and stabbed the hardened meat unsuccessfully with his fork. "I wouldn't say that. You make a mean piece of toast." She rolled her eyes, and he grinned. "Should I call my mom and see if she has room for two more?"

Donna nodded, then shook her head and stared off into space. But it wasn't her inability to cook she was thinking of as her husband walked towards their telephone. "I talked to Jackie today. She's not doing well at all. She told me that Hyde was beaten up in jail."

Eric set the telephone he'd just picked up back in its cradle and returned to the table. "God…I can't believe they actually think he killed…" He sat down mechanically and swallowed. The words were just too hard to say; the idea was incomprehensible.

Donna's brow furrowed. "You know, I've been thinking about it, and Fez is so obsessed with Jackie. Do you think…I mean, it's Fez. Do you think he could have been her stalker? He's always been creepy that way." He'd hidden in her closet for years, stolen both hers and Jackie's clothing, always gotten off on watching other people make out. Stalking wasn't that far removed from his everyday behavior.

"Yeah, I guess I can see him sending the letters. But Bradley? He could never have…" Eric closed his eyes. "Neither of them could have."

Donna took a deep breath. "We need to go to Chicago, Eric. We need to see Jackie, and we need to see Hyde. And we need to go now."

Eric nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we do."

The spouses locked eyes, and as they did so often, shared a thought.

_And maybe we can figure this out. _

_Chicago, Illinois, Jackie and William's apartment _

Jackie sat at her vanity and stared at herself. Her skin, normally an exotic olive, had paled into fair beige, and beneath her eyes sat puffy circles stained blue, as if she'd done a haphazard job of removing her make up from that afternoon's taping. Her lips were dry and cracking in the center. Dry skin flaked at the edges of her eyebrows. She'd spotted a few grayish looking hairs that morning, and her eyes now focused on them. Instead of throwing a tantrum, or demanding her personal assistant make an appointment for her to have her hair colored, she sat still on her velvet-covered vanity chair. Mere months ago, this reflection would have sent her hollering to the hills for every fix money could by.

Now, she simply didn't care.

A knock on the door, and the sudden presence of her maid distracted Jackie.

"Miss Jackie?"

Jackie turned and tried to speak. "Ye…ye…" Her throat burned. "Y-y-es, Maria?"

"Someone named…" The petite woman frowned. "Fez is here to see you."

Jackie stood up, her heart coaxed into beating once more. "Fez? Oh god…" A rush of excitement and relief, the chance to see a familiar face and a trusted friend, thrust her into a slight jog. When she reached the living room, and saw his smile, as always so very sweet, tears filled her eyes. How she'd longed for Point Place the last few years, the simplicity of it, and the people. How she'd yearned to go back to before her hell had begun. Seeing Fez now was almost a return to it.

"Fez!" she cried, hurrying towards him and throwing her arms around him. He immediately returned her embrace, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh, god, Fez, it's so good to see you!" Fez pulled back, and Jackie tried to smile at him. "I'm so glad you're here."

Fez's smile was weak and quickly disappeared. He held her by the shoulders. "Jackie, you do not look so good. Let's sit down." He took her hands and led her to the couch.

She sat, and nervously reached to brush back her hair. "I uh…I know I don't look as beautiful as I normally do. It's just…well, things have been really chaotic here, with the show, and trying to figure out how to get Steven out of jail."

Fez sighed and reached for one of her hands. He took it, and held it on top of his thigh. His brown eyes stared into hers; his thumb gently caressed her soft skin. "I wanted to talk to you about that, Jackie. I've talked to William…"

"You've talked to William?" She felt a twist in her stomach, nerves or suspicion, she wasn't quite sure.

"He told me that you've been obsessed with getting Hyde out of jail."

Her face flushed, and she backed away from Fez, her stomach plummeting to the pristine white carpet. She withdrew her hand from him and tangled her fingers together. "Because he didn't kill my baby and doesn't belong in jail."

Fez's eyes flashed with impatience, and he looked away for a moment. "I didn't want to have to tell you this, Jackie, but a couple years ago, just after Bradley was born, Hyde told me that he wished Bradley didn't exist." He cleared his throat and avoided looking her in the eye, though he felt her eyes on him. Instead, he looked at a large and lovely portrait of her on the wall. In it, she was vibrant, lusty with life and beauty; all that she wasn't now. All that Hyde had killed repeatedly. His fists clenched, and he found the nerve to look at the real woman. "He hated William and was jealous of Bradley. He is guilty, Jackie."

She stiffened, and though she wanted to jump up in consternation, stomp her feet in anger, reach out and smack Fez, she couldn't. The shock of hearing those words from her friend, from _Steven's _friend, paralyzed her.

"He killed your baby, Jackie, and you are trying to free him."

In that instant, Fez's face morphed into one of a stranger. She was looking at an enemy, not a trusted friend. Someone who was willing to betray a man who'd always looked out for him. Without realizing it, she stood up. "He…Steven…he never said that," she whispered hoarsely. She held out a hand to point at him, and noticed how hard she was shaking. Made sense. She was freezing from her bones outward. "And he did not kill my baby. You…you're a…" The tears began to fall, and he became blurry. "You're a bastard for saying that he did!"

"Damn it, Jackie, what kind of hold does he have over you? You've always loved him, even though he's never treated you the way a woman…a goddess…should be treated! Even when you were with me, and I worshipped you, you loved _him_!"

She threw her hands up in the air and began pacing, running her hands wildly through her hair and not caring that she was messing it up. Such a silly and superficial thing to worry about. When she faced Fez, despite her tears, he was clear to her, his face erupting with bitter anger. His features were twisted, almost monster-like, and it seemed fitting. To her, he was. "I know! I know I did!" The anger in his face collapsed into hurt, and she clasped her mouth with her hand. It slid down her chin to her chest, and her fingers curled around the silk of her blouse. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I hurt you, Fez. I just…"

Her shoulders lifted. How could she explain what she and Steven shared? No one had ever understood it, no one ever would. People degraded it and ignored the beauty of it. Fez did too, though Jackie believed if he'd understood it, he'd realize the power of it. She took a few steps towards Fez. "I can't help it, Fez. I can't stop loving him. I can't…he's…he's part of me. He's in my blood. From the first time he kissed me…" She trailed off and roughly brushed tears off her cheeks. She tried to breath, tried to smile. "I'm sorry…I know that I…when I left, and when you asked me…I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I just…" Her eyes closed, and she saw Steven's face, felt his touch, heard his voice, tasted his skin, smelled his scent. Her chin lifted towards the ceiling. "He's in my blood. And I'm in his." She covered her mouth briefly, but the words she wanted to release were too forceful to be contained. Too important. Too necessary. "Fez, Steven is…was…Bradley's father. Not…not William."

To her surprise, Fez didn't look shocked. He looked sad.

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "William told me you would say that. God…" His eyes began to shine, apparently with tears. "You're really as delusional as he said you were." He approached her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Jackie, you have to face the truth…."

She shook away, now the chill in her body fire of anger and betrayal. "NO! I'm NOT delusional! And I can prove that Bradley is Steven's son! Come on!" She grabbed Fez's hand and dragged him her small legs moving as quickly as they had ever moved.

In a few minutes, they were in her bedroom, and Jackie was digging through her hope chest, tossing stuff over her shoulder in order to find the fastest way to the bottom.

Fez brushed off a blanket of some sort that had landed on his shoulder. "Jackie, baby, you've got to stop this."

She scrambled to her feet, waving a piece of paper triumphantly. "Here. Look, Fez, this is Bradley's birth certificate." She moved closer to the man and opened the folded paper. She pointed with her index finger. "See, mother, Jacqueline Burkhart. Father…." Her eyes widened.

Fez finished her sentence. "William Bonner."

Jackie shook her head. No. No. This couldn't be right. This was the birth certificate, the real one, she'd kept hidden from William since Bradley's birth. The one she'd had Steven's name put on. Just a few days ago, it had said Steven's name. And now…Her head filled with dizziness, and nausea built in her stomach. Her limbs began to buckle, and only Fez's arms around her kept her from toppling to the floor. She began gasping for breath and mouthing, her voice dead, the word "no".

The birth certificate fluttered from her fingers and to the floor.

"Jackie." His voice was soft and soothing, tinged with worry and sadness. "You have to stop this. You have to get help. Hyde has you so twisted up inside, and I'm scared what will happen to you."

She looked at him, into the eyes she used to know so well, into the face she used to trust, and though she saw worry and concern, what she saw more of was disdain and pure hatred for Steven. Pure disgust for her feelings for Steven, pure disbelief in Steven's feelings for her. She somehow found strength, pushed away from his hold, lifted her right hand and landed a slap, with as much energy as she could manage – enough to make her palm sting- on Fez's cheek. She shook her head, and from the heat she felt behind her eyes, behind the tears, she knew they were flickering with her own intense hatred. "Get out of my house," she hissed. "Get the hell out of my house!"

Fez glared at the woman he'd once, and truth be told, still, loved, rubbing his cheek. "You will need me one day, Jackie," he said coldly. "I know you will need me one day. Soon." He turned and walked stiffly to the door, and turned back once there. "I will be in Chicago for awhile. If you want to talk to me, William knows where I am staying."

When he was gone, Jackie stumbled nearly blindly to her bed and sank to it. She began to sob.

Two days ago that birth certificate had said Steven's name as the father.

_Hadn't it? Could I possibly have just imagined it? Could I possibly have just imagined everything? _

She buried her soaked face in her hands. William had told her she was acting crazy. Now Fez was telling her she was acting crazy.

She fell back on the bed, her hands sliding down to her chest, and she stared at the ceiling. Tears ran rivers down her cheeks, dropping off her chin and to her exposed collar bone. They were cold tears, and she shivered.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "Am I going crazy?"

_Later that afternoon, Cook County Jail _

"I just…Steven, I feel like I'm going crazy. But I…" She smiled. "I feel so much better seeing you. You always make me feel stronger."

Hyde looked at their four hands, joined in the middle of the metal table. She was clinging to his so tightly he was beginning to lose circulation. His fingertips were tingling slightly, and yet, the idea of releasing her hands was sickening. He lifted his eyes and studied her face. His beautiful girl looked old far beyond her years, and so tired. Drained of life, and guilt bit at his stomach. Probably a bit of truth to what Fez had told her. He shook his head. "You're not crazy, Jackie, you're just stressed out." He leaned forward. "You gotta get away from William. If he's telling you one thing, and telling other people like Fez and who knows who else something else…" His eyes narrowed. "He's up to no good."

Jackie looked away. "How am I supposed to get away from him, Steven? He's my husband. And I…" She looked back at him. "I can't divorce him. You know that."

Hyde closed his eyes. He knew. He knew all too well. And it was because of him that she couldn't.

"And my dad is on his side, so he's not going to be any help."

"Go to Point Place. Go stay with the Forman's for awhile," he said. "Please, babe. God, I just…" He sighed angrily, and his anger wasn't appeased when she squeezed his hands. He glared at her in response, though the shakily brave smile on her face made his heart turn over. Her strength still surprised him, even though he'd seen it so many times. What a woman; this beautiful, delicate rose of a woman who had the survival instincts and power of a shark.

And contrary to what she might think, her strength wasn't from him.

"I have to stay, Steven, to make sure you get out of this hellhole. It's so damn grey. I mean, you'd think they would have put a little more thought into the color scheme."

Her nose crinkled in disgust as her eyes wandered the small and drab room, and he smiled slightly.

"God, Steven, here I am whining about myself and you're the one stuck in this place. I should be taking care of you."

He frowned when she stood up and walked towards the guard at the door. "What are you doing?" She waved him off, and he turned around to watch her. She gestured to the guard, and the guard leaned down to her so she could whisper to him. After a moment, the guard shook his head, but Jackie persisted. She put a hand on the man's chest and again whispered to him. With a half put upon, half seduced sigh, the guard glanced at Hyde for a second, then turned his back on the body of the room. Jackie walked back to him and pushed out his chair. He grinned when she sat down on his lap, and wrapped his arms around her.

The feeling of her body this close to his was something he'd been fantasizing about, and his eyes abruptly became hot.

She put her hands on his cheeks and smiled lovingly at him. Her face lowered until her nose rested on his, her breath mingled with his, her lips were so damn close his sensed the coming kiss and ached for it.

"I love you, Steven."

His breath caught in his throat. "I…god, Jackie, I love you, too. Just…you gotta…"

"Steven, shhhh."

Her lips pressed down on his, and before he knew it, he was breathing her, and tasting her. His hands worked over her back and her rear as her tongue tangoed sensually with his. Her fingers shot up into his hair, and he moaned softly into her mouth.

But all too soon, the guard cleared his throat, and Jackie retreated from him. She stood, her sad eyes filling with tears. Hyde shook his head and took her hand. "Don't, okay? Just…Jackie…" His stomach turned with nerves. After what she'd told him, his sinking feeling was deepening. "I still think you should go to Point Place."

She leaned down and brushed her lips over his. "Puddin' Pop." A stroke of her hand on his cheek, and another brilliant but forced smile. "I'll tell Alex everything. I love you. I love you so much."

After she left, as Hyde was being led back to his cell, he shook his head. Things weren't right. William was up to no good at all, and he was using Fez to accomplish something. Something bad for him, but even worse, bad for Jackie.

In his cell, he lay down and closed his eyes. There she was, his beautiful doll, but looking ragged.

And he was helpless to protect her. Absolutely helpless.


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!!

**Warning: **Some language, and one character (guess who, lol) being an extreme bastard. I'm osrry. He's just that way. :)

**Frames **

Chapter 12

_December 7, 1986, Cook County Jail _

Jackie had pulled strings, and now Hyde had a color television set to help pass the days in his godforsaken home. His cellmate was delighted, and for the most part, Hyde let the idiot pick what to watch, with only one exception; Jackie's show. Epstein didn't complain. He actually seemed to enjoy the show, and Jackie, though after one too many comments about her body, he'd learned to keep his opinion to himself. Hyde sat on his bunk and stared at her. She looked beautiful, of course, but not perfectly so. In fact, her make up looked haphazardly applied, and she looked as if she just didn't give a damn.

It worried him.

"Hyde."

He looked up and found a guard standing at the bars of the cell, keys in hand.

"You got visitors." The guard opened the bars. "Let's go."

Hyde hesitated, staring at his tiny brunette for a minute. His heart constricted; god, he wanted her. That kiss she'd given him the last time she'd visited, the fact that she'd told him she loved him – she'd meant to comfort, but it was torture. He couldn't be with her. And damn, how he wanted to.

"Hyde! Up and at 'em!"

Hyde stood and turned to glare up at his eagerly grinning roommate. He pointed at him. "You better not do what I think you're gonna do while you're watching her."

Epstein grinned. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Jackie's your girlfriend." He laughed. "Right! Like a chick like that would go for scum like you!"

Hyde started towards the bunks, making Epstein jump, but the guard pulled him back, and he could only shoot a raging look at the idiot.

"Let's go, Hyde. Now."

A few minutes later, Hyde sat in the room Jackie found so distastefully decorated and did his best to smile at Forman and Donna. He was glad to see them, glad to hear they didn't believe he was guilty or even capable of murdering Jackie's son. _His_ son.

"God, Hyde, I can't believe…Are you okay?" Donna seemed nervous; she twisted her fingers together and her eyes darted around the room, hardly ever landing on his face.

"You, uh, you aren't anyone's…um…well…"

Hyde smiled. "I'm not anyone's bitch, Forman. See, I can actually fight back without relying on 'the force' or some plastic light saber." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Look, I just…thanks for coming." He looked away, as always, uncomfortable with being sincere.

Donna leaned forward. "Hyde, we want to help. What can we do? We'll do whatever you need. We took time off work and we're gonna stay until…"

"Until the damn police realize that they made a fucking mistake," Eric interjected angrily.

Hyde closed his eyes. His stomach was turning wildly, nerves on edge, his entire body unprepared for the blessed relief of knowing that at least two people were on his side. Two people who hadn't just lost their child, who weren't vulnerable; two people he didn't have to protect.

"Hyde?"

He cleared his throat and his eyes opened. "You gotta get Jackie out of here. Take her to Point Place, take her anywhere. She needs to…" He took a deep breath and fought the wince his face wanted to form. "Fez is in town, and he and William are up to something. Something that's not gonna mean anything good for her."

Donna and Eric looked at one another. "Hyde," Donna started, reaching for her husband's hand. "Why does Fez hate you so much? I mean, he's convinced that you…that you…"

Hyde nodded and stared at the table. "I know. He thinks I did it." The piercing sensation in his stomach worsened. Fez had once been one of his best friends. Now, he wasn't. Fez was just another person who'd found reason to hate him. He should be used to it by now. He looked up, at two of the people who'd always stuck by him, even when he'd done the most idiotic things in his life. He could trust them. He could always trust them. "Before Jackie moved to Chicago, Fez proposed to her."

The couple stared at him, wearing twin masks of shock. "What?"

"He asked her to marry him, and she said no. He was convinced it was because of me, and then…You remember when he went to visit her after she got married?" The spouses nodded, and Hyde's cheeks abruptly felt rather warm. "Well, uh, he kind of…he…he caught her and I…"

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Caught you where?"

"In bed."

The silence nearly deafened all of them, until Donna whispered. "He came home with a black eye."

Hyde nodded. "Yeah, well, he went a little crazy. Tried to beat me up. I didn't like it."

Eric frowned. "So…you and Jackie…"

"Had an affair. She was gonna leave William but then…" Hyde's throat constricted and choked the words. No need to go there. No need to confess all. That wasn't necessary information for anyone to have. "We broke up and she stayed married."

His hesitation confused Donna, and she suspected there was more to it than just that. Just as she was about to ask, Hyde spoke again.

"There's something else."

Eric squeezed his wife's hand. "What?"

"Bradley was my son."

_Twenty minutes later, Michigan Avenue _

Donna walked slowly down the street, holding her husband's hand. They hadn't spoken much since leaving the jail, and she knew Eric felt just as she did. Surreal, lost and not quite sure of anything; even the noise from the happy and busy shoppers all around them and the lapping of the nearby lake, disturbed by a bitter wind, didn't make any impression on her at all.

"I can't believe that Hyde was the father of Jackie's baby. I mean, I can, but I can't…"

Donna looked at Eric and nodded. "I know. It's just…" She stopped walking, her mouth open, and she tugged her husband to a stop. Her heart raced. "Oh my god, Eric, do you think…do you think Fez knows that Bradley was Hyde's? And that he was so angry that he…"

His eyes caught hers, and they said it all. He was wondering the same thing. Fearing the same thing.

Tears filled her eyes. How had this happened? Their group of friends had always been a security blanket for all of them. There had always been an unspoken dependence between them all.

Now there was nothing but tragedy and suspicion.

How could _love_ lead to all of this?

"We have to talk to him, Donna."

"Yeah. Wait, we don't know where he's staying."

"Hyde said he and William were in cahoots. We could ask him."

"Or, or we could call Nina. He must have told her where he was staying. "

"Right. Let's go."

_An hour later, Jackie's television studio _

William closed the door to his wife's dressing room and gently walked to her. She was sitting Indian-style on the floor, a small stuffed bear clutched to her chest. She rocked like she used to when holding Bradley, and as he watched her, his game plan changed. He'd come with every intention of using threat and force, even violence if necessary, to enforce their deal and force her to disown her relationship with that bastard.

No need for that. With her as emotional as she was right now, another tactic would work much better.

"Jacqueline," he murmured softly. "Darling." He lowered himself behind her and slowly put his arms around her waist. For a moment, his nose lightly buried in her sweet-scented and soft raven hair, his chest flickered with genuine emotion. He'd once loved this woman. And truth be told, there was still remnants of that love in him. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Her slender body trembled in his embrace. "I…I found one of Bradley's toys." Each of her words strained in the middle and shattered at the end. "My baby…he's gone, and I…I miss him…William, I miss him so much!"

William smiled though she sobbed. "I know, sweetheart. I know. I miss him too. My son. _My _son." He rested his lips near her ear and stroked her stomach. "He was my son, wasn't he, my love?" She tensed, and he nibbled tenderly on her soft lobe. "I don't know what I'd do if I found out that he wasn't my son. I might divorce you. I might go to the press and tell the world that Jacqueline Burkhart, role model for all of Chicagoland, is nothing more than a whore who cheated on me and passed off another man's child as mine."

He inched his lips forward, to her cheek, and to his delight, he could feel all the blood rush from her face. Her skin rapidly turned icy. He brought one hand to her lips and stroked them, they trembled but released no breath. She was trapped, literally and figuratively. "Your fans wouldn't like it. This is Chicago, but it's still the Midwest." His fingertips left her lips and moved to her cheek. "Bradley was my son, Jacqueline. I loved him, and he was my son."

A choking sound came from her throat, and his fingers slid to it, caressing it with care. "Alex tells me that Steven is claiming Bradley was his son, and that you and he had an affair. But that's not true, is it, sweetheart?" His thumb and first two fingers moved to the middle of her throat and delicately squeezed. "It can't be true. We have an agreement. You signed a contract, Jacqueline. You agreed that your relationship with Steven Hyde never happened. You agreed that you would never claim you did. Do I need to show you the contract again?"

Now she was shaking fast and furiously. She'd dropped the toy, and was clinging to his arm still around her waist, though her fingers were quickly loosening. He slid his left hand down her throat, down her chest, back to her waist.

"I should remind you that the statute of limitations on rape isn't up. That girl could still change her mind and press charges against Steven."

"But…" Her voice barely sounded, the words hardly formed on her ragged breath. "But she's gone."

"I can find her," he retorted. "I will find her. Don't doubt that, my dear."

"I have to tell the truth, William. For Steven." She sounded a bit stronger. "They won't believe he killed his own…his own…"

The stiffness in her body slackened, and she collapsed against him. He smirked. "_My_ son, Jacqueline, because we both know he was _my_ son. That is, unless you want to ruin your career and make Steven's problems with the law even worse." Another kiss on her cheek, this time hard. Her whimper pleased him. "Alex says the case against Steven is weak, much weaker than the police and DA would have everyone believe. He doesn't need…_lies_ to help him." His arms tightened around her. "You owe me, Jackie. I'm your husband. I love you. You promised that you would be my wife if only I helped Steven avoid that rape charge. In more than name only. You promised I would be the only man in your life and that you'd never recognize your fling with Steven again." He forced himself to shudder, forced his voice to thicken as if he was close to tears. "You have no idea how I felt when I found out you'd been sleeping with him. The only reason I made you sign that contract was because I was so frightened that I'd lose you. I thought it was the only way I could keep you. Damn it, Jackie, I love you so much, don't you realize that? He slept with someone else, Jackie. I would never do that. Never."

Her hand tightened on his arm briefly, then fell off of him, and he smiled.

Victory was his.

_An hour later, Fez's hotel room _

Fez paced the cheap room angrily, but it wasn't the tacky décor that fueled him. It was a memory, brought on by Donna and Eric's visit, and what it could possibly mean.

They'd told him that Hyde had told them he was Bradley Bonner's father.

He sat down on the bed and stared down at the disgusting green shag carpet. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. William had said it wasn't true. Hyde had every reason to lie, William had none. Jackie was losing her grip on reality.

And yet, Donna had done the math. He could hardly argue with math, especially done by a woman who was both hot and incredibly intelligent.

Bradley was born in December of 1984.

Eric and Donna's wedding was in March of 1984.

Nine months between them.

At the wedding, Fez had been so struck by Jackie's beauty, so awed, his anger towards her meant nothing. He'd decided to woo her. He'd left the reception early, to rush out for a dozen roses, then to head to her hotel room to surprise her with the flowers and promises of his eternal love. True, she was married, but he sensed she was unhappy and ready to end it. He had to take the opportunity the wedding presented him with. After all, as Kelso always told him, weddings made chicks horny. Unbelievably horny.

Just as he'd turned the hall towards her room, from the other direction, they'd appeared in front of her door. Arms entwined, lips tangled, bodies meshed. His hands, those stupid burn-out hands, all over her beautiful breasts, amazing thighs, heavenly backside. She'd giggled and swatted him away so she could unlock the door, then once it was open, tugged his tuxedo shirt and him into the room.

Jackie and Hyde, tumbling into a hotel room.

Nine months later, a baby came.

Fez stood up, shaking his head. "No. It cannot be. Surely when she went home she slept with William."

He closed his eyes.

He had to talk to William. Now.

_December 8, 1986, Cook County Jail _

"You lied to me."

Hyde scowled across the table at his lawyer. Not very reassuring when your lawyer looked at you as if you should this very instant be strapped to the electric chair. "About what, exactly?"

"I went to see Jackie this morning. And she told me that not only are you _not_ Bradley's father, she never had a relationship with you after she moved to Chicago."

Paralysis prevented Hyde from even breathing for a moment. It seemed someone else spoke for him, though with his voice, from his mouth. "That has to…no, you must have misunderstood her. Jackie would never…she'd never…"

"She did. And before you say anything, William wasn't with her. She told me herself that she was never with you. So you have two choices. You can either come up with another story for me, or you can tell me the truth. I'd prefer the truth."

The words didn't penetrate.

He stared at the table, cold, grey metal, but instead saw her face. Such a beautiful face, and her eyes shone with love for him, at least until they turned dark. Her smile twisted into a vengeful smirk.

_"I never had a relationship with Steven Hyde. I never had a relationship with Steven Hyde. I NEVER HAD A RELATIONSHIP WITH STEVEN HYDE AND HE IS NOT THE FATHER OF MY BABY!" _

His eyes closed, fists clenched, but she was still there and taunting him. She'd told him she would tell Alex everything, and instead, she'd denied him. Denied loving him. Again denied him her, again denied him his son.

He struggled, tried to find the Zen. Tried to not care.

Tried to ignore the ripping away of his heart from whatever kept it in his chest, the stabbing pain that knifed it to shreds, the cutting of the jagged pieces that were left.

So much for Zeppelin.


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:**I don't own.

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry about the delay! I'm trying to get back on track. Now. I know that this chapter isn't going to be popular, but it's necessary. And I really hope that you understand why Jackie does what she does. Thanks so much for the reviews, and for the patience. I know this story is heavy.

**Frames**

Chapter 13

_December 8, 1986, a condo on Lake Shore Drive, Chicago _

Jackie was almost used to the colors of life around her being dull and drab. It seemed natural, and she supposed, it was for a woman who'd buried her baby. Now, as she sat in her father's apartment, the elegant décor consisting of vibrant colors, expensive fabrics, and priceless pieces of art she'd helped him achieve didn't only seem only grey and lackluster; it seemed to be disappearing. Everything did, and most of all, her soul.

She'd betrayed Steven.

"Here you go, sweetheart. A nice cup of tea. You look so pale. And you're shivering. Are you cold?"

Jackie shook her head and lied. "No, I'm fine, Dad, but thanks." She took the cup, and a surge of heat entered her fintertips, only to die long before reaching in deep recesses of her. Nothing would warm her. Nothing could warm her. And it wasn't just cold lingering inside; it was emptiness that only made its presence known by its chill.

She'd betrayed the man she loved so much.

She took a sip, then a deep breath. The conversation she wanted to have with her father was probably going to turn up a pointless waste of time, but she had to try. Had to find someone who would be on her side and help her fix the mess she'd made of so many lives. "Daddy, I need to talk to you."

Jack Burkhart sat down on the leather couch and smiled lovingly at his daughter. "Sure, sweetheart." He took her hand. "What's on your mind?"

Jackie licked her lips. So dry. And no amount of Chapstick had helped. Must be the winter air. Or just another manifestation of the death inside of her that was quickly spreading. "Steven. Daddy, just…" When her father's expression became impatient, she sat up straight and squeezed his large hand. "Just listen. Please." He sighed, and she smiled sadly. Her eyes burned. "I'm in love with him, Daddy. I have been for a long time, and…"

Jack pulled his hand away from hers and stood up. "Jacqueline, I don't want to hear this."

She stood and glared at him. "Well, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to. I need you to know the truth." Another deep breath, another silent prayer for strength. "Daddy, Bradley isn't…wasn't William's son. He's…was…Steven's son." The image of her little boy, his sweet blue eyes and gentle smile, burned her heart, and she caught a sob with her hand. Her father stared at her, his dark eyes blank, unreadable, and she lifted her shoulders. "He wouldn't…he wouldn't kill his own baby, Daddy." His silence scared her. "Daddy?"

"Jacqueline." Jack stepped forward and put took his daughter in his arms. "Oh, my precious Jacqueline."

Jackie hugged her father with the little strength her body contained, and for the briefest of moments, the cold inside warmed a few degrees. Until her father spoke again.

"William told me you would say that. He told me about your delusions, but I didn't want to believe him."

It reminded her of what Fez had said to her. _"William told me you would say that. God, you're really as delusional as he said you were." _She lifted her head off her father's shoulder and looked at him as her body weakened until she could hardly feel herself. "Daddy, no…"

His hands gripped her shoulders, and his eyes penetrated hers, now full of concern and worry. Now brimming with the pity of a father looking at a mentally unstable daughter.

_Am I going crazy like everyone says I am? _

"He's so worried about you, Jackie. About your obsession with Steven Hyde. He's thinking about checking you into a hospital, and I'm beginning to think it's a good idea."

She shook her head, tried to scream, but all that came from her parched throat was a whimper. "No!"

His hands tightened. "So you can rest, sweetheart! You've been under such strain, and now…now I see what a toll it's taken on you. You actually believe that…that _man _was Bradley's father, and Jacqueline, it's just not true. Steven Hyde hated that child, and he killed him."

She stared at her father's face, watched it change into her husband's, then Fez's. Her head began swimming with dizziness, and she wasn't sure exactly where she was. "No," she whispered, backing out of the hands that held her.

_No one believes me. No one believes me, and everyone thinks I'm crazy. But I'm not! I'm not! It really happened…Steven was his daddy…We're in love…that's all real! It's all real! _

"Jacqueline…"

"No…no…I'm not…" She shook herself away from her father and turned. Hardly seeing anything around her, stumbling into furniture on her way, by rote she made her way to the door of the apartment. Her father's voice followed her, his steps haunted hers, but she didn't stop.

Only one person believed her, and she had to go see him. Somehow, she had to make up for what she'd done, and as she got behind the wheel of her car, ignoring her father's calls to her, Jackie prayed that she'd get to Steven before his lawyer did.

Before he knew, before his love for her turned to hate.

_O'Dwyer's Pub, 2013 La Salle Avenue, Chicago, Illinois _

"Mr. Burkhart."

Jack turned in his seat at the bar and smiled when he saw his daughter's friend standing next to him. "Fez. Good to see you. Jackie told me you were in town." He gestured to the empty chair next to him. "Have a seat. I'll buy you a drink."

Fez smiled and sat down. "That is very nice of you."

Jack waved at the bartender. "A beer for my friend here." He looked at Fez. "So, you waiting on William, too?" The young man nodded, and Jack noticed his expression turn stormy. "You look upset."

"Has Jackie said anything to you about Bradley? And who…who his father is…was?"

Jack sighed, shook his head, and turned to his glass of beer. Good, old fashioned, American beer. There was still Wisconsin in him; he often grew tired of fancy brandy and expensive wines and champagnes. His daughter would probably never understand, but there were many times, increasingly so as the years went on, when he missed being a simple small business owner in Point Place, Wisconsin. Before he allowed the money and politics to corrupt his entire life. "Yes." He closed his eyes. "That ridiculous story about Steven Hyde being Bradley's father. William is right. My daughter isn't well. She needs help." Again, he looked at Fez, expecting a nod of agreement, and instead, finding confusion. "Don't you agree?"

Fez tapped his fingers on the bar top and avoided Jack's gaze. "I uh…I do not know, Mr. Burkhart."

Jack frowned. "Do you have any reason to think she may be telling the truth?"

A long pause. Both men ignored the beer the bartender set in front of Fez.

"I…yes. There is something."

Jack's heart paused, and immediately after it regained movement, ached. What he wouldn't give for his daughter to be fine, for her sanity to be in tact. For her husband to be wrong about her. Maybe her friend was about to provide a glimpse of hope. He cleared his thickening throat. "Tell me everything."

An hour later, Jack stood outside the bar and gazed across the street at the building his son-in-law practiced law in. Now instead of just his chest aching, his head did as well. Badly so. According to Fez, his daughter, just about nine months before his grandchild was born, slept with Steven Hyde. And also according to Fez, William had bartered with him, offering his daughter to Fez when he was done with her.

He shook his head and began to walk down the crowded street. The noise of cars passing by, people talking and laughing, bumping into one another, bicycles trying to share the limited space on the downtown streets, seemed muted, as if it was all happening around him but behind a wall.

Ever since he'd met William, Jack had believed he was the best man for his daughter. That William would make up for the way he himself had neglected Jackie for so long by providing Jackie with everything she dreamed of. He'd believed William when he'd said he loved her. That he was worried about her. That he would take care of her. He'd believed William just a few hours ago when once again, he'd reassured him that Jackie had not been involved with Steven Hyde.

Out of sheer force of habit, hardly realizing it, he turned right on Jackson Street.

Now he had no idea what to believe, or even worse, what to fear.

_Cook County Jail _

He wouldn't look at her, wouldn't even look up from the table, and Jackie's entire body stopped trembling. Her body had lost all feeling, all sense, and was too stiff to shake. It would be easier if he looked furious, if his uncovered eyes blazed with hatred and anger at her, or even if he'd fastened the Zen to his face, his patented indifference.

Instead, his eyes, downcast, darted as if lost. His features slumped with a lack of energy. His lips remained parted, his hands discarded carelessly on the table. His shoulders, rather than his usual strong carriage, seemed limp.

And Jackie, just by looking at him, felt in her heart the pain and betrayal he felt in his.

"Was he my son or not?" His voice held no accusation, held nothing at all but monotone.

"Steven…"

"You either lied when you told me he was mine or you lied to Alex."

Jackie swallowed. She deserved the bitterness left burning on her throat. "You know that he was yours," she whispered.

He shook his head. "I don't know anything."

She'd never seen him this way. Defeated, and completely without anger, without even his last resort, his apathy. Emptiness on him was different. There was no force. It made the insides of her shudder, just before strips of her soul collapsed and piled at her feet. Her eyes tried to focus in the hot pool of tears surrounding them. "You know that I love you."

He still didn't look at her, still didn't look up, but the corners of his mouth rose slightly. "Maybe. When it's convenient for you."

She leaned forward, and the tears began to run. "No, Steven. No. Just let me explain why I…why I…"

"Why you lied? Why once again you pretended there was nothing between us? Why you took my son away from me again?"

"Steven, listen to me!" She began to breathe so hard the words exploded rather than spoke. "He tricked me! William…he said that…he said that he'd find that girl and have her press rape charges against you…."

"As opposed to _murder_ charges, Jackie?"

Finally, something broke in him, and Jackie's eyes widened. His face instantly erupted in anger, the blue of his eyes tinged bright around the edges, his hands stiffened and pounded the metal table.

"Damn it, Jackie, do you think I would have cared if that slut pressed charges? I would have dealt with it. I wouldn't have given a damn if I had only known that YOU gave a damn about me!" He shook his head and paused. "He probably told you that your fans would turn against you if they knew you were in love with a no good, poor burn out." He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't he?"

She turned her head. Her eyes closed.

Shame was colored black, she discovered, because black was all she could see.

"Yeah, I figured. I'm not good enough for Ms. Jackie Burkhart, queen of Chicago."

The old Steven, the boy she'd dated in high school, the boy who'd been so terrified of letting her in he ended up breaking her heart was back, bitterness lacing each syllable he uttered.

"I'm fucking tired of this shit, Jackie. Tired of being nothing to you."

She whipped her head towards him. "Steven, you're everything to me!"

"No! I'm not! You would have told Alex the truth if I was _everything_ to you! What I am is what you want when you fucking want it. When you don't, when it gets too messy, you just go back to your asshole of a husband and pretend I don't exist. And what do I do? I sit around and wait for any little crumb you decide you wanna throw my way! God damn, Jackie, I'm as pathetic as you used to be! You cut off my fucking balls, and what's worse is that I _let_ you!"

"I thought…" She looked down at the table, her chest beating with sobs. She couldn't see anything anymore but waves of tears, and pounding in her entire body confused her, put her in a fog. "I thought I was protecting you." His words cut her to the bone, and she dropped her head into her hands. She muttered to herself, words he couldn't understand, words she couldn't understand.

How could she stop this? How could she change this?

She lifted her head and cried to him, desperately, from her heart. "I'll tell Alex the truth, Steven! Today! I'll tell everyone the truth, and then you'll see that I love you and I need…"

"Don't bother. I fired Alex."

Jackie's heart stopped beating, and he retreated into Zen as she stared. "Steven, no. No, you can't…Steven, a public defender isn't going to help you! Steven, you have to let me…"

"I don't want your help. I don't want anything to do with you." He looked at the guard and nodded, then stood up. The guard came over to him and handcuffed Steven.

All Jackie could do was watch Steven turn away from her.

When he turned, her stomach sparked with hope that was immediately extinguished by the disgust in his eyes.

"By the way, Jackie. In case you're wondering."

_Blue eyes shine so cold_.

"There is no us."

For the first time in her life, Jackie understood how words could come back to haunt one. And how words could wield more power, do more damage, than any weapon, gun, knife, anything.

_Later that night, Jackie and William's apartment _

"Jacqueline."

She closed her eyes, but didn't move away from his embrace. She couldn't. Since she'd settled down in her bed, all the lights in her bedroom turned off, the curtains pulled closed tight, movement had become impossible.

His hand slipped down her uplifted side, down her thighs to the bottom of her nightgown. His body pressed closer behind hers, and his breath caressed her neck. Slowly, he pulled the hem of her nightgown up.

_Say no. Say no. Say no. _

_But he's here…he's with me…he's not yelling…he's touching me…he doesn't hate me…he's here…he's here…and Steven's not…Bradley's not…no one is but him…_

"Jacqueline…."

His lips pressed surprisingly warm kisses on her neck, and his finger gently teased between her legs.

_He's all I have now…Steven doesn't want me…hates me…he'll never love me again…_

Her body responded, and warm heat began to spread upwards from the apex of her.

_What about Steven? _

_**By the way, Jackie. In case you're wondering. There is no us. **_

**_There is no us. _**

_He's gone. He's….oh god…he's gone…god, where am I/ What am I going to do? When is it going to stop? _

She rolled over, and was in William's arms.

When his lips touched hers, and her eyes stayed closed, it was his face she saw. It was his body she wanted on top of hers.

"William," she breathed.

_I need something. Someone. Something to hold on to….God, am I going crazy? _

Warm. He was warm.

And when his erection grazed her inner thigh, hot and hard flesh against her trembling nakedness, it was him she wanted inside her.

_He's all I have…all I have left…. _

_All I have left. _


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I don't own.

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, and putting up with my obviously insatiable need for angst! Hee hee. I think you'll find that, although there is still some more drama (come on, it's me) to come, the tide is turning. Yay! Hope you enjoy!

**Warning: **Language

**Frames **

Chapter 14

_December 9, 1986, Jackie and William's apartment _

The water showering down on her wasn't hot enough, and Jackie reached behind her to turn the gold plated knob. She turned it all the way to the left, and it suddenly rushed with fresh and stinging heat. Her eyes closed, her chin lowered, and as the water saturated the back of her head, she shuddered. Even the most scalding water wouldn't burn her self-disgust away.

Technically, she hadn't done anything wrong. She'd slept with her husband. But the sickening layer of dirtiness spreading beneath her skin said she'd made the worst mistake of her life. And that was saying a lot, considering the mistakes she'd made over the past six years.

_I am so dirty. _

She lifted her chin and leaned her head back so the water splashed her forehead. William had held her, and when she woke, he'd whispered lovingly to her in a way he hadn't in years. _"We could be so happy together, Jackie, if you just give me…give us…a chance." _A bitter laugh lodged in her throat. She rubbed her hand over her face, spreading the gloriously hot water. They had never been truly happy together, and never could be. She'd realized that even before they'd married. And she'd married him anyway, though at the time, always, it seemed, she'd loved Steven.

Steven.

Her eyes opened, and her heart stopped for a moment as realization hit her full force. By sleeping with William, she'd done the same thing Steven had when he'd gone to that girl, that prostitute. Jackie's body, exhausted from grief and too many emotions to handle, slipped to the bottom of the shower, and she sat under the rain of water. Her eyes closed. It had been such a bad fight…and as usual, only because she was trying to help him.

_November 12, 1982 _

_"I just thought you should talk to him, Steven." Jackie followed the retreating man into the back of the store, where his office was. She closed the door behind her, and stared imploringly at the back he presented to her. "He's your father." _

_A snort, and then he turned, to give her one of those Steven Hyde "I detest you" looks he was so good at giving anyone and everyone when necessary. "Right. So it's okay that you went behind my back and called him, when you knew that I don't want to see him?" _

_"Yes! God, Steven, you were getting so close to WB before you left Point Place. I just don't understand what the problem is!" _

_"The problem, Jackie, is you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Crap, I forgot how god damn nosy you are." _

_She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please." She sighed and took a few steps towards him. "Okay, look. Maybe I shouldn't have gone behind your back. But I did it for your own good." She reached him, and gently put her hands on his shoulders; they felt tense and locked. She pressed her fingers into his flesh, over and over. "Steven, why do you hate him so much?" For a moment, his shoulders softened, and she thought he might, for once, confide in her without a fight. _

_No such luck. _

_He ripped himself away from her touch and turned to her, his glasses off, blue eyes deep with anger, his expression ticking with it. "It's none of your business." _

_She balled her hands into fists. "Yes, it is! Steven, I'm your girlfriend!" _

_"No, you're someone else's wife!" _

_"I'm leaving him, Steven! I told you that!" She reached out and grabbed his tee shirt with both her hands. "Just tell me what the hell is wrong this time." _

_He pushed her hands off him. "Don't touch me." _

_"Tell me!" _

_He stared at her, she stared back. She wasn't going to back down. Not this time. Not ever again. Every time she backed down, she lost him. _

_"Fine. You wanna know? The day after New Year's, Edna showed up at the Forman's." _

_Jackie gasped. "What?" _

_Hyde began pacing, passing by her, brushing her shoulders slightly with his. "Yeah. She had a little story to tell me, about WB. Turns out, they never dated the way he says they did. Turns out, he raped her at a party and she wound up pregnant." He turned and smirked at her. "Guess who the baby was?" _

_Jackie stood still, stunned. "Ste…Steven…are you…are you sure?" _

_He rolled his eyes. "Well, I wasn't actually there, Jackie, but that's what Edna told me." _

_Jackie stumbled a few steps in shock, shaking her head. "I just can't believe that. WB is so…cool." She met his eyes. "You believe her?" _

_"Why shouldn't I?" He turned from her and moved to the small window in the back of his office. Again, his shoulders looked tight. _

_She bit her lip. What she wanted to do was comfort him; obviously, this had taken a huge toll on him. And she assumed that this was the reason he'd left Point Place so abruptly. And yet, the fact that he was falling into what had to be a trap, set up by the woman who hadn't loved him enough to stick around, angered her. "Steven, this is the woman who abandoned you! Why **should** you believe her?" _

_"What woman lies about being raped?" _

_His voice was soft, weak, something extraordinarily rare for such a defiantly strong man. Doubt was there, but also some desire for the mother who'd let him down over and over again. _

_"Maybe a woman who wants to blackmail a rich man. Or because she just didn't like WB being involved in your life the way she never was." _

_He turned, and his eyes bored into her. "That's not what this is about." _

_She moved to him and put her hands on his crossed arms. "I don't get this, Steven. Edna treated you like crap. She LEFT you. WB has been nothing but good to you since you met him. How can you believe her over him? Did you even talk to him? Get his side of the story?" _

_He pulled away from her. "No! What's he gonna say? Yes, son, you're the product of rape. Yes, son, I lied to you about my relationship with your mother." More pacing, until he fixed his eyes, so very coldly, on her. "God, I see what's going on here. Edna's poor, WB is rich. That's why YOU believe him, isn't it? Money is all that matters to you, isn't it? Jesus, you're just as shallow as you always have been. Makes me sick." He turned and walked back to the window. _

_She swallowed the intense hurt, but it didn't disappear. It lodged in the biggest part of her heart. How could he think that what she was concerned about was money and not him? What she was worried about, the first thing she thought of when Edna's name came up, was him, and the worry that she was going to hurt him yet again. The breath she tried to take hurt rather than helped. "If I'm so shallow and make you sick, then why are you with me?" _

_"Right now, Jackie, I don't have any idea." _

And then two days later, he'd called her. Told her he was in jail. Accused of raping some girl.

Jackie stood up and reached for the soap. With stiff limbs she could almost hear creak, she began to wash her body. He had sworn that he hadn't raped that girl, but he hadn't been able to tell her he hadn't slept with her. He'd turned to someone else after a fight, as he'd done years before.

And now, she'd done it too.

_Noon, Rigolini's Ristorante, Chicago, Illinois _

"You seem anxious, Jack." William took a sip of his bourbon and raised an eyebrow at his father-in-law. Jack was fidgety, tapping his fingers on the table, playing with the table setting, picking up and setting down his napkin. He pursed his lips. "If you're worried about my relationship with Jackie, don't be." He smiled. "We spent last night trying to make you a grandfather again."

Jackie smiled weakly. "That's great, William, wonderful to hear."

William didn't buy the dull, forced tone of Jack's words. A waitress set down a plate of veal parmigiana in front of him, tortellini in front of Jack, and William nodded curtly at her. He picked up his fork. "Don't sound so enthusiastic, Jack."

Jack didn't touch his meal even as William dug in. He leaned forward. "William, I got a call from First National today. Apparently, the trustee of Jackie's trust has been making large withdrawals." He leaned back, leveling a loaded stare at his son in law. "Fifty thousand dollars in the past two months. You're the trustee, William. Where in the hell is her money going?"

William chewed his food slowly, never moving his eyes away from the accusation in his father-in-law's. He'd mastered the poker face in law school, perfected it in his years of practicing the law. After swallowing, he picked up his bourbon and took another slow sip, inwardly enjoying the impatience flashing across Jack's face. "Your daughter, Jack, has very expensive tastes. In everything. And considering you made me promise to do anything to make her happy…" He cocked his head. "You did make me promise you that, did you not?"

Jack looked away, and William smiled before taking another bite of his veal.

He'd never met an argument he couldn't win. And he always won.

_2:30 pm, Jackie and William's apartment _

She'd heard about women finding hotel receipts in their husband's pocket, but she'd never imagined it would happen to her. Of course, she hadn't found a receipt in his pocket. She'd found a picture in his dresser drawer.

Her hands shook as she stared down at the picture. It wasn't so much that she'd found a picture showing her husband with another woman. It was _who_ the woman in the picture was. She knew her.

She closed her eyes, tried to breathe, tried to think. Think. Think. Think. She had to do something. Had to tell someone. Only one name came to mind, and he wasn't exactly speaking to her.

Her eyes opened, and she rushed to her bedroom, the picture still in her hand. She went to her dresser and stared at her sorry reflection in the mirror. She was pale, circles under her eyes, thoroughly pathetic. Her hair, normally nearly pure black and gleaming, perfectly coiffed, stuck out in sharp feathers in several places, grey strands almost glowing.

She looked down at the picture.

Something wasn't right. Something that went beyond Steven being in jail, her baby being dead.

_And are you going to do anything about it? No. Because you're just a spoiled bitch who doesn't have the strength necessary to lift a paper clip. _

It was something William would say to her. Her incredibly loving husband.

She took a deep breath and scowled at herself. She _was_ going to do something about it. Even if it meant subjecting herself to Steven's wrath again. Even if it meant alienating her fans and losing her job.

Jackie threw her shoulders back and frantically smoothed down her hair. She took a deep breath, nodded, then turned on her heel and rushed to the telephone on her nightstand.

She had a few phone calls to make.

_Later that afternoon, Cook County Jail _

"It's her, Steven. The girl you slep…who said you…"

"I know who she is." Hyde looked at the picture Jackie had slid across the table to him after stumbling over a few cordialities. He'd seen her once, well, once that he could remember, and she'd looked as cheap as she did in this picture. Bleached blonde hair, huge chest, make up of a clown.

"It's recent. I know, because William bought that shirt just a few weeks ago." Jackie shook her head and looked down at the picture. "I just can't believe he…."

Hyde's eyes shifted up, and he stared at the woman he wanted so badly to hate. He tried. Night and day, he tried. Night and day, he failed. She was in him…running through his veins…keeping him alive. And it sickened him. He sneered at her. "You can't believe he cheated on you? What, are you devastated that your _husband_ found himself someone he likes fucking more than you?"

Jackie slammed her hand down on the table. "No! God, Steven, don't you realize what this picture means?" She held up the stinging hand. "Before you repeat yourself, that's not what I mean." She lowered her hand and sat back in her chair. "And for your information, I don't give a damn who he _fucks_."

_I'll tell him about last night later. God…I hope he understands. _

Hyde pushed the picture across the table. "Whatever."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "Steven, they're seeing each other. He's been telling me for years that she moved to Ohio or Oregon or something. But she's obviously here. If they're seeing each other now, maybe they were seeing each other then. Maybe…" Her voice rose, and she leaned forward into the table. She reached across it and took his hands. To her surprise, he didn't pull away, and she smiled. "Maybe they were somehow working together. Maybe the whole rape thing…Steven, maybe they set you…us…up."

He stared at her, and the anger he'd felt since their last visit was blanketed by admiration. She looked better today, more alive, more color in her face. Her eyes shone, not nearly as much as they used to, but double what they'd done lately. His mind worked fast. She was right. William was as diabolical as they came. "Crap, Jackie, you could be right. I still can't remember what happened that night," he said slowly, turning his thoughts over and over. "And you were so worried that he'd figured out that we were…together."

"Exactly, Steven." She squeezed his hands. "We need to figure out what really happened. I don't know if it means anything, but…I just think we have to know."

He nodded. "Forman and Donna are in town. Have you seen them?" She shook her head and started to speak, but he turned his hand over and tightened his around hers. "Get a hold of them. We're gonna need their help."

Jackie smiled, pulled her hands out of his, plucked the picture off the table and stood up.

Hyde frowned. "Where are you going?"

She nodded at the guard. "Chuck?"

Hyde looked over his shoulder, and the guard sighed, with a small smile, and turned so his back was to him and Jackie. She pushed his chair back and settled herself on his lap, and Hyde, desperate for touch, for her touch, didn't push her away, though his head screamed at him to do just that.

"Steven, I love you so much."

He winced, but when her lips inched towards his, arched his neck and took hers for his own. His arms wrapped her to him, as tightly as he could. He wanted to soak her, all of her, into his body.

After the kiss, he slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at her. She smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry for what I did," she whispered. "So sorry, Steven. I have so much to make up to you." Her eyes brightened. "And I will. Watch my show on Monday. We're going live."

Another soft kiss, and she was off his lap. He swallowed hard; he was still angry, but this girl, this impossibly infuriating creature, was his heart. He thought of something she'd once said. _"I'm your lifeline, Steven. Grab me." _Or something like that. He'd mocked her then, mocked her for such a long time after that.

But truer words had never been spoken. Damn it, he needed her. And now they were talking about investigating a man who was arrogant and ruthless. It left him feeling weak inside, his stomach buzzing with warning butterflies. No. More like warning vultures.

"Jackie. Don't tell William you know about him and this chick." He grabbed her hand. "Don't tell him anything anymore, okay?"

The sweet smile she gave him almost finished his anger off. "I won't, Steven. I'll see you soon." The sweetness turned seductive, and she leaned down to his ear. "And the next time I'm here, I'll be wearing a skirt and no panties."

After she flounced out in a way only she could pull off, Hyde sat still in his chair. The words she'd purred to him vibrated through his entire body.

"Boy, you got yourself a little vixen there, Hyde."

He shook his head and looked at Chuck the guard, a smile just barely dancing on his lips. "Yep, sure do."

He could only pray that she came back the next day. Or, better yet, an hour.


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry about the long wait for an update. I'll do better from now on, I promise. :) Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing!!!!! So much! You guys keep me going. Happy reading!

**Warning: **Language.

**Frames **

Chapter 15

_December 9, 1986, Jackie and William's apartment _

Donna held Jackie's trembling hand, not really knowing what to say, or what to do. Her best friend was going through hell, and it only seemed to get worse with each passing day. All that felt right was holding her hand, and it seemed enough for Jackie. Donna looked at Eric, and could tell he was just as baffled, just as stunned as she was. Jackie had just told them about Hyde's first stint in prison, accused of raping some girl, and how she'd found a picture of that very girl with her husband.

Jackie took a ragged breath and looked at Donna. "Something is going on, Donna," she said shakily. "William's involved with that girl, and I just…I just know it didn't just start. I just know that he had something to do with her accusing Steven." She stood up, slipping her hand out of the comfort of Donna's, and began pacing. "I should have left William as soon as Steven and I…But I was scared!" She whirled around and looked at her friends seated on the couch, a couch William loved and she hated. "I didn't know if Steven was going to be serious about me, and I just…I guess I just wanted…" She smiled sadly. "I wanted security, like always." She turned and walked to the huge window on the other side of the room. "And because of me, Steven's in this mess."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Wait, do you think that William has something to do with Hyde being arrested for…for…." His voice cracked. Donna reached over and took his hand.

Jackie turned, lifting her shoulders helplessly. "I don't know, Eric. I really don't. I mean, William thought Bradley was his son. I don't think he's capable of that."

Again, Eric and Donna looked at one another.

"But I have to know whether he had anything to do with that girl accusing Steven."

Donna nodded and took a deep breath. "We need to find out who she is, first of all. Do you know her name?"

Jackie nodded. "Sheree, I think. I don't know her last name. I didn't want to know." She walked back 1over to the couch and sat down. Then, with a tiny smile, she got up and sat down on the glass top of her $3000 coffee table. William wouldn't like it. And that pleased her. "I guess I could confront William about the picture. Maybe he'll tell me who she is."

Donna shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Jackie. The less William knows, the better."

Jackie stared at the floor and nodded. "You're right. And Steven doesn't want me to let William know that I know." She smiled faintly. Despite her betrayal, he still wanted to protect her. The one thing in her life that was blessed…the fact that somehow, she'd gotten under his skin. And that somehow, he couldn't get rid of her. _Thank God for that. Thank God for Steven. _

Eric stood up. "How are we going to figure out who this chick is, then?"

Jackie smiled bitterly. "Why don't you ask Fez? They're suddenly great buddies. I'm sure William needs a man to brag to about his conquests." She sighed. "But Fez won't help us. He hates me. And Steven." She stared at her hands. They looked old. Veins seemed to be popping up through the skin, making them look ragged. No amount of lotion seemed to help. "He'd rather see Steven in jail the rest of his life than…" Her voice broke. If only she hadn't hurt Fez so badly.

Then again, she'd have only hurt him more had she stayed with him when her heart, always, belonged elsewhere. How she wished Fez could understand that.

Eric stepped over Donna's legs and sat down on the couch directly in front of Jackie. He took her hands. When her eyes met his, he smiled. "I've got an idea. "

Donna closed her eyes. "Eric, I love you, but your ideas have a tendency to…well, not be good ones."

He glared at her. "I know, but I think this one will work." He turned back to Jackie. "You trust me?"

Jackie curled her lips.

"You know, you really don't have many options at this point, Jackie."

She smiled, and despite the pain in her stiff body, released a tiny giggle. "Fine. I trust you." Eric beamed and stood up, and Jackie grabbed his wrist. "Just don't screw it up!"

Eric scoffed. "Oh, like I could screw anything up!" He kissed Jackie's hand, then kissed Donna. "I've gotta run back to our room, then I'll go see Fez. Be back in a few hours."

As he headed out of the apartment, Jackie looked at Donna, her eyes tearing up, and Donna simply opened her arms. Jackie stumbled the few steps to her and took as much solace as she could in her best friend's embrace.

_Fez's hotel room, an hour later _

Fez paced the tiny room, trying to ignore the tackiness of the carpet, the ugliness of the matching bedspread and curtains. He pushed his hand through his hair. When had life become so complicated? Just a few years ago, it had been so easy. He and his friends hung out in the Forman's basement, ate Popsicles, burned one another, spent their days creating mayhem and having fun. Now, one was grieving the loss of her son. Another was imprisoned for the murder of that child. And he was confused, utterly confused, as to what to believe.

Eric sat on the double sized bed and watched as his friend moved restlessly around the room. "Fez? You okay, buddy?"

Fez stopped pacing and looked at Eric. "I just do not know what to believe. I know now that it is possible that Jackie's baby was also Hyde's baby." He threw up his hands. "But why would William lie to me about it? He said that the baby was his!"

"Fez, if he admitted that he knew the baby wasn't his, he'd be suspected of the murder." Fez looked at him blankly, and Eric rolled his eyes. "He'd have a motive, Fez, his wife had given birth to another man's child. The cops might think he hated the kid so much he killed him."

"But William is not jealous and violent the way Hyde is." Fez looked down. He wasn't' sure if he believed that, either. True, Hyde was jealous and violent…but only with Kelso, really. Oh, he threw an occasional punch to him or Eric…but with kids?

"He also doesn't love Jackie the way Hyde does."

Fez's head shot up, and he glared at Eric. "Hyde does not love Jackie."

Eric stood and held out a picture to Fez. "Look at this picture."

Fez took it, and smiled. The picture was taken at Donna and Eric's wedding, and was of the gang. The bride and groom, glowing with joy and surrounded by their best friends. Kelso, grinning goofily and holding his fingers behind Eric's head. Brooke, looking as hot as ever in her silver bridesmaid dress. Fez grinned when he came to his own image. He'd forgotten how incredibly handsome he looked in a tuxedo. And then he came to Hyde, who wasn't even looking at the camera, but instead, staring at the woman next to him, the goddess that was Jackie.

He frowned.

"You see how Hyde's looking at Jackie?"

Fez's frown deepened. He did. Hyde's glasses were off, and he was even smiling, just a little bit, at Jackie next to him. The always- hard Hyde seemed…soft. Adoring. It was as if Jackie was some giant bag of weed that took Hyde's breath away. He looked in awe. He looked…

"He looks in love, doesn't he?"

Fez's stomach sank. Jackie had told him millions, billions of times about a certain look Hyde used to give her when they were alone. One that she knew meant he loved her. And he'd even seen it a few times, usually when he was spying on the two and Hyde didn't know anyone else could see him.

"Can you look at that picture and honestly say think that Hyde doesn't love Jackie?" Eric raised an eyebrow. Fez was pouting, and he knew that meant he was buckling.

"But that was years ago." Fez's voice sounded weak even to himself. "He does not love her now." He looked up, at Eric, and his hand fell, the picture fluttering to the ground. "Except that he does, doesn't he?"

Eric smiled slightly. "Yeah, he does, Fez."

Fez began pacing again. "I just…it is so confusing. I mean, they both have reason to lie. Jackie has reason to lie. But…" He turned to Eric. " I do not like hating him so much, Eric, but he…he stole her from me!"

Eric took a deep breath and approached his friend. He put his hands on his shoulders and spoke as gently as he could. "Fez, I just…I think you never really had her."

Fez nodded, a sad smile playing on his lips. He pulled away from Eric and moved to the bed, sinking down in defeat. "I wanted to believe William. But Jack told me he's stealing money from Jackie, and now this…I really wanted to believe him."

"Why, Fez? I mean, William isn't your friend. And Hyde…despite everything, is."

Fez nodded. "Because William promised to give me Jackie."

Eric startled. "What?" He looked at his friend, who had suddenly become tongue-tied. He had to fight the urge to lurch forward, take Fez by the collar and squeeze. "What in the hell are you talking about?" His own stomach felt tight and sick.

"He said that if I did whatever I could to convince Jackie that Hyde killed her baby, he would divorce Jackie ands he would be mine. We signed a contract."

Eric stared at Fez, his mouth unable to close. His cheeks warmed, and though he tried to move, he found his body had stiffened into paralysis. Anger spread through him like wildfire, burning away that suffocating stiffness, and it was his turn to pace. "Damn it, Fez!" He shook his head. "You don't love Jackie, you're just fucking obsessed!" He turned and pointed accusingly at the guy he used to consider his friend and now wasn't so sure. "You realize that, don't you?"

Fez nodded, feeling more ashamed of himself than he ever had before, because Eric was right. For years, despite the fact that he had a wife whom he did love, he'd allowed bitterness to boil inside him. And coming to Chicago hadn't even been so much to comfort Jackie but to make Hyde pay for her never getting over him. "Yes." He closed his eyes. "God…I was stupid to believe William, wasn't I? I told Jackie she was crazy because he told me she was." His eyes filled with tears, and he looked helplessly up at Eric. Hopefully his friend wouldn't hate him, wouldn't tell him to go to hell the way he was telling himself to.

Eric took several deep breaths, and they worked. The anger settled into a low boil instead of high rage, and he took a seat next to Fez. "We've gotta get her away from William, Fez. And we need your help."

Fez nodded. "Yes. Yes. I will help."

"Good." Eric stared out the window at the gray Chicago afternoon. His gut screamed. William had something to do with Hyde being in prison. And probably…he cringed. Probably had something…everything…to do with Bradley being dead. After what Fez had just told him, there was nothing else to think.

Now, somehow, they had to find a way to prove it. To save Hyde.

And Jackie.

_Warner & Bonner Law Offices _

William sat at his desk, grimacing and tapping his pen on the papers lying in front of him. Court papers. Papers filed by Jack Burkhart, requesting his removal as trustee of Jackie's trust. He tapped faster and faster, gripping harder and harder, until the pen, not a cheap one, snapped in half. He closed his eyes and took several shallow breaths.

That bastard had betrayed him.

He reached for his phone and punched in the numbers. Waiting impatiently, he scowled. This had to be a mistake. Jack hadn't been able to argue when he'd excused his spending Jackie's money on her expensive tastes. He rolled his eyes when there was no answer. "Damn it, Jack, pick up!"

No such luck, and William slammed the phone back into the receiver.

He swiveled his chair around and stared outside. Tall buildings. Busy streets. Energy. People making money. He needed money. More money.

He closed his eyes. Somehow, he had to make Jack change his mind. Somehow. And soon. Soon.

Now.

_Jackie and William's apartment _

"So." Donna watched Jackie standing at the window. She stood up and walked over to her friend. "How are you doing? I mean, with everything that's going on…"

She shook her head and looked down at the expensive carpet. White. White carpet was asking for trouble, she'd always thought. It could never be kept clean. But in Jackie's apartment, a penthouse, no less, on Michigan Avenue, it was as brilliantly bright as freshly fallen winter snow.

Jackie didn't turn. She was watching a bird perched on the side of the building next door. She didn't like birds. Steven used to tease her about it, told her she didn't like birds because she couldn't tie them down. He'd said it with a smile, though. Right after she'd told him that she was leaving William. Right after he promised to commit himself to her.

Bradley had loved birds. He'd always chased them in the park, watched them out of the windows, outside, his little face rapt with happiness as they flew around him. She'd always thought he'd inherited that love of freedom from Steven.

The thought of her son, of Steven, brought tears to her eyes, and she turned slowly to look up at Donna. "I'm just…I miss my baby so much, Donna," she whispered brokenly. "And Steven…Donna, I feel like I'm going crazy!" She collapsed, falling to the floor in a heap.

Donna dropped to the floor as well and wrapped her arms around the shaking Jackie, her own eyes burning and foggy. "Shhhh, Jackie," she soothed. "You're not going crazy. You're just stressed and scared and grieving." She rocked the small woman.

"I'm alone, Donna! Steven's in jail, and I'm so…scared…I just…god…my baby…and Steven…."

Donna smiled, ignoring the tear slowly rolling down her cheek, and continued to rock Jackie. She was a woman, but so lost, so like a little girl, and the most vulnerable Donna had ever seen her. Fierce protectiveness centered in her chest, and she wondered if Hyde felt it too. She nodded to herself. Of course he did. "You're not alone, Jackie. Eric and I are here, with you, and we're gonna help you and Hyde. No matter what it takes."

She hugged Jackie tight.

No matter what it took, she and her husband would do it.


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I don't own.

**Author's Note:** See, I told you I'd be better about updating. :) Hopefully I can continue this pace even when my vacation ends on Monday. Sob, sob. Thank you SO much for the reviews, and for those of you who've said this reminds you of Law and Order, bless you! LOL! I love that show! Enjoy!

**Warning: **Language

**Frames **

Chapter 16

_December 10, 1986, Cook County Jail _

Hyde lay on his joke of a bed, staring at the picture Jackie brought him. In the picture, he was sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair, holding Bradley only a few hours after his birth. The baby's eyes were open, staring directly up at him. Blue, just like his. He smirked. She thought it was the only picture he had of Bradley, but it wasn't. He'd taken the others on his own over the years, following Jackie as she left her apartment. The park, the zoo, Navy Pier, Sears Tower, all over Chicago. Everyone around had thought he was just some random photographer. Once he thought she'd caught him, but if she had, she didn't bust him. Never said anything to him about it. Didn't stop him.

A snort stuck in his chest. He supposed he'd acted like a stalker. He supposed he'd actually been a stalker. It had been the only way he could watch his son growing up. And now the cops had all those pictures. Evidence, he guessed, of his obsession, which led to him murdering Bradley. That's what the cops must be thinking. His eyes closed, and he lowered the picture to his chest.

He'd talked to Bradley once, heard his sweet voice once. Just a few weeks before he was kidnapped. Grant Park, just outside Jackie's fancy building.

_He watched her playing with the little boy, picking him up and flying him trough the chilled but vibrant lakefront air. He was close enough to hear her laughter, and Bradley's chirping giggles. William didn't seem to be anywhere around. Maybe she wouldn't mind. After all, Bradley was his son. _

_He walked towards her, his stomach twisting with nerves. His fingers folded into the palms of his hands, his head began to flood. He shouldn't. He should leave well enough alone. He was the one who'd resisted Jackie's idea of secret visits. He was the one who'd told her it would be too hard. And too dangerous. _

_But he kept walking, and just as he came a few feet away from her, she looked at her. Her smile faltered, but she kept it. _

_"Steven." _

_He shrugged, his cheeks warming. "Hey. I, uh…I was in the neighborhood." He looked down at the boy. Curly brown hair on his head. Bright blue eyes that he didn't hide behind sunglasses. But Jackie's smile. And energy. _

_Bradley grinned and pointed at him. "Ste!" _

_Hyde glanced questioningly at Jackie. _

_She smiled. "I've told him about you," she said quietly. "Shown him pictures of you. He can't quite say Steven, so…" She took a step closer. "He calls you Ste." _

_Bradley tugged on his jeans, and he looked down. The boy lifted his arms, and he reacted instantly, his heart pounding. He lifted the toddler up and did his best to control the burning behind his eyes. "Hey, Bradley." _

_"Hi, Ste!" Tiny hands patted the back of Hyde's neck, blue eyes that he'd know anywhere studied his face, then raised to look at his hair. The patting hands moved to the side of his head. "My hair." _

_Hyde grinned. "Yep. Your hair." He leaned into the boys touch, let him tug on the magic 'fro a little bit. The feel of this tiny body in his arms, the young heart beating against his side, it was almost too much. His arms weakened, his knees shook. And his own heart felt shredded. _

_"Play, Ste?" _

_He was about to say yes. About to offer to take him to a park with a playground so he could spin him on the merry-go-round, push him in a swing, hold his feet as he crossed the monkey bars, catch him before he fell to the ground. Do the things a father did with his son. _

_"I have to go, Steven. William will be home soon, and he can't see you with…" She looked down, then at him again, her eyes full of tears. "Steven, I'm sorry." _

_He shrugged, swallowing repeatedly. Trying to control his anger. After all, it was his fault she couldn't leave William. His fault he couldn't be with his son. If she did leave that bastard, her life would be ruined. "It's okay. You're right." He tried to make his smile real. "Okay, buddy, guess I better give you back to your mom." _

_Bradley pouted. Another gift from his mother. "No! Wanna play with Ste!!" He threw his arms around Hyde's neck and squeezed, his face burrowing in the crook of Hyde's neck. _

Hyde shook his head. Jackie had reluctantly pulled the unhappy child off of him, all the while looking at him with such regret. He knew she hadn't wanted to. He knew she'd longed to stay, to give him more time with Bradley, to leave William and be with him despite everything. Just as inclined as he'd been to ask her.

He sat up, rubbing this temples, and he frowned. When he arrived home that day, he'd gotten a phone call. From William.

_"I just wanted to remind you of something, Steven. The statute of limitations on rape isn't nearly up yet. I know where Sheree is, and she trusts me. If I go to her, I can easily convince her to press charges against you. Do you want to risk that?" _

_Hyde didn't answer. He closed his eyes, gripped the phone tightly. _

_"Stay on your end of town, Steven, and we won't have a problem. Stay away from Jackie, and maybe I'll forget about what I saw today. Maybe I'll lose Sheree's number." _

Hyde's frown deepened. William had said that Sheree trusted him. Why? He'd told Jackie that he'd talked to Sheree's lawyer, and that her lawyer convinced her not to press charges. And why had he known where Sheree was? The whole thing had happened a few years before that. Over and done with.

Unless…

They'd had something going on before the so-called rape.

Unless…

William had convinced her to accuse him of rape.

Unless he'd been set up.

_An alley, the south side of Chicago _

William looked around him in disgust. Crumbling brick walls, cracked concrete, a light on one of the walls that hardly worked at all. Puddles of filthy water, cigarette butts floating on top, were on the ground, every few feet. He had no doubt that deals of all sorts went down here, from drug deals to hookers picking up their next trick. A smirk crossed his lips. Rather appropriate to meet here.

"You got the money, Bonner?"

William looked to his left, starting slightly. "Damn, you really are sneaky. Didn't notice you." He studied the newcomer and chuckled. "You look the part, I'll give you that."

A man, his identity hidden by a long, black trench coat and a fedora hat tipped down to shade his eyes, stepped towards William. The man smiled slightly, but it nearly instantaneously faded. "You got the money?"

William arched an eyebrow. "Is that why you wanted to meet me? If so, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. I don't owe you anything until Steven Hyde is tried and convicted." He shook his head and looked away, at the disgusting wall in front of him. "We agreed on that. Half upfront, the rest after conviction."

The other man took another step towards William. "I don't care. I want the money now."

William glanced at the man, who now stood uncomfortably close, and he stepped sideways. "We have a contract."

The man laughed. "Do you think I'm stupid enough to believe that contract could ever possibly be enforced? No." He moved to the front of William, pushed his hat back and took hold of the collar of William's suit coat. "I want my money."

William took a breath. No need to be unnerved. This guy knew nothing about him. Couldn't hurt him. He'd made sure of that. He'd taken steps to ensure that. This scum bag was no danger to him. He took the hand off his jacket and pushed it away. "You'll get your money," he said calmly, looking into the dark eyes that glistened at him. "After Steven Hyde is convicted." He pushed past the man, but stopped and turned. Pointed. "Don't contact me again. I'll let you know when you get your money."

He walked away, his heart pounding. He knew he was being watched, but also sensed he wasn't being followed. As he turned out of the alley and back into the bright light of the city street, he smiled. It'll be fine. The guy just needed reassurance. That's all.

_Jackie and William's apartment _

Donna set a cup of tea on the kitchen table in front of Jackie. "Drink that. And I'm going to make you a sandwich."

Jackie shook her head and waved her hand at Donna. "Don't. I'm not hungry."

Donna put her hand on her hip. "You have to eat something."

"I'll eat later."

Donna gave up with a sigh and sat down next to her friend. "So…do you think it'll work?"

Jackie shrugged, staring at the table. Marble, and she traced her finger over the patterns. It was much too fancy for a kitchen, but William had insisted on it. "I don't know. I know William likes Fez, and he obvious trusts him if he wanted Fez to convince me that Steven killed Bradley." She looked up at Donna, the corners of her lips tugging up. "I'm surprised that Fez agreed to help."

Donna nodded. "Eric must have gotten through to him." She smiled affectionately. "Sometimes he can be pretty good at that kind of thing."

Jackie nodded, her smile broadening a bit. "Like when he convinced me that I would be okay and I could do my tv show even though I didn't have anyone." She reached out and took Donna's hand. "You have a good husband."

Donna squeezed Jackie's. "Wish I could say the same."

Jackie started laughing, and for a moment, the two girls did nothing but giggle.

After the fit ended, Jackie, still holding her best friend's hand, again looked at the table. "You know, I used to tell Bradley all about Steven. I told him stories, and showed him pictures, and he always recognized Steven in other pictures. " She smiled. "He couldn't say Steven, so he called him Ste." She lifted her head and met Donna's soft gaze. "He'd point to Steven in a picture and say, 'Ste hair. My hair. Ste hair." She smiled, but this time tears filled her eyes and her lower lip trembled. "He recognized his own hair on Steven. Sometimes I…"

Donna watched Jackie's chin fall to her chest. "Sometimes you what, Jackie?"

"Sometimes I wonder if he knew." She looked at Donna. "If Bradley somehow knew that Steven was really his daddy." She shrugged. "Stupid, I know. He couldn't have known."

Donna shook her head and tightened her grip on Jackie's hand. "No, it's not stupid, Jackie. Maybe he did. Maybe he felt it in his heart."

Jackie nodded, and a tear slipped down her cheek. "I hope so," her voice broke. "I took enough away from Steven…he deserves that, at least." She pulled away from Donna and took a deep breath. Smiled weakly. "Maybe I'll have some ice cream."

Donna nodded. As Jackie walked to the freezer, she chewed on her lower lip. "Jackie, when you got pregnant with Bradley you knew he was Steven's. Why didn't you leave William then?"

Jackie pulled the ice cream out, then moved to the cabinets. She took two bowls out and moved back to the counter. She kept herself from crying, concentrating on scooping enough ice cream. "When William got Sheree to drop the rape charges, it was conditional." She finished scooping the ice cream. "Oh, do you want chocolate sauce?"

Donna nodded. "Please."

Jackie walked to the pantry and got the sauce. She sighed as she poured probably way too much over hers. William would scold her. Who the hell cared? "I had to promise to stay away from Steven and to be a wife in every sense of the word to William." She picked up the bowls and walked back to the table. "Hope that's enough."

Donna's eyes widened. Jackie had given them each about four huge scoops and half a gallon of sauce. But somehow, it seemed right. "It's fine, Jackie."

Jackie sat down. "If I did leave him, he'd ruin my reputation. He'd take all my money…"

Donna interrupted. "According to Fez, he's doing that anyway."

Jackie nodded, smiling slightly at the irony. "I know. Funny, huh?" She took a bite of ice cream. The coldness felt good on her sore throat, sore from crying, gasping, trying desperately to breathe. "And he'd send Steven to jail. I couldn't…I couldn't risk that as much as I wanted to. " She closed her eyes. "And I wanted to so much, Donna."

Donna nodded, looking down at her wedding ring. "I know."

"H e made me sign a contract."

Donna narrowed her eyes. "Wait…Fez said he made him sign a contract too."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, one that gave Fez the rights to me."

"Does he make everyone sign contracts?"

Jackie nodded. "Yeah. Everyone he does business with. " She looked questioningly at Donna. "Why?"

Donna frowned. "I don't know. It just…there's something weird about that."

Something very weird. And something that decided she needed to remember.

_Outside of Warner & Bonner Law Offices _

Eric raised his eyebrows as Fez came out of the huge glass doors. "So? Any luck?"

Fez shook his head, his face dejected. "No. He was not there. But I made an appointment for tomorrow." He looked at Eric. "I do not know if he will tell me anything, Eric."

Eric shrugged. "You gotta try, man. Just do what I told you. Talk about chicks. All guys like to talk about their scores with other guys. Especially when they're fooling around."

Fez nodded. "But there has to be something else we can do. Do you think we should talk to Jack?"

Eric looked around, pondering the idea. "You said he's doubting William now, right?"

"Yes."

Eric nodded. "Then lets get to him before William does. Come on."

_That night, Jackie and William's apartment _

The water was hot, nearly scalding so, and yet Jackie's body accepted it around her with pleasure. The bubbles that blanketed her were colored from the several candles she'd set on the sides of the deep tub. Her sanctuary. She lay back, trying, as Donna suggested, to not think. To just rest. Just savor the soft kiss of the water on her skin.

Soft piano music came from the speaker in the wall above her head. Slow and gentle, lilting in waves that almost matched the movement of the water she lounged in. Soothing. She thought it might be Chopin. William was a big fan. _I guess he did one thing right. Installing that sound system throughout the house. _

The heat and low light made her sleepy, and she closed her heavy eyelids. Maybe just a tiny nap. Blessed escape from the hell that was her life. She brushed her hand over her breast, moving warm bubbles to her upper chest. And she wished Steven was with her, behind her, whispering something, anything to her, even if it was just one of his conspiracy theories.

"Mommy."

The word, clear and high, a little boy's voice, _her _little boy's voice, came suddenly, breaking up the luscious piano chords.

Jackie sat straight up, her heart instantly reaching a roaring drive in her chest, her eyes open as if never closed.

"Mommy, come play!"

She shivered. All the heat of the water had vanished. She looked weakly up at the speaker.

"Mommy!"

It wasn't coming from the speaker.

_Bradley. Bradley. My baby boy! _

She stood, looking around, her eyes wildly searching for her baby boy. "Bradley?" she whispered. Where was he? He had to be somewhere…he was speaking to her, calling to her, needing her.

She got out of the tub, looking around the bathroom. "Bradley?"

All she heard was the rolling of piano keys.

She slipped the floor, the cold of the tile burning her naked skin.

And she sobbed.

_Twenty minutes later _

Jackie opened the door to William's office without knocking and stormed in, heading to the stereo he'd connected to the speakers in various walls of the apartment.

William looked at his wife. "Do you need something, Jackie?"

She opened the tape deck and took out the one he'd put in for her. She turned to him and held it out to him. "Get rid of this tape, William. There's something… " Her voice broke. She wasn't going to tell him that she'd heard Bradley's voice. He'd think she was crazy. "There's a defect."

William arched an eyebrow and began to speak.

"No. Don't argue, William! Oh, fine! I'll get rid of it myself!" She threw the tabe to the floor and began stomping on it, tears bursting from her eyes as she did so, over and over again.

William watched, a tiny smile on his lips. She'd taken the bait. Thought she was crazy. Just a few more instances of hearing Bradley's voice, she'd go right over the edge. Just where he wanted her.

The smile faded. Where he _needed_ her.

_Late that night, William's office _

William stared at the package on his desk and spoke quietly into the phone. "You have the kid? And you're sure he looks like Bradley?" He listened, and rolled his eyes. "I do trust you. " An impatient sigh. "I'm not agitated. I just…Look, this has to go perfectly. Things are starting to fall apart, and I can't let that happen." He nodded. "I've got the clothes. I'll bring them to you tomorrow."

After hanging up, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wanted a brandy, but was too exhausted to pour himself a glass.

Soon he'd have Jackie out of the way, at least temporarily. Quite possibly, permanently.

He smiled.


End file.
